


It Takes a Traitor to Start a Revolution

by Casper_Smith



Category: It Takes a Traitor to Start a Rebellion
Genre: Adventure, Assassin - Freeform, BoyxBoy, Fantasy, Friends With Benefits, Gay, Gayfantasy, Gayfiction, Healingmagic, LGBT, LGBTQ, Lightningmagic, Love, M/M, Mage, Magic, Murder, Original Story - Freeform, Rebellion, Romance, Sex, Smut, Smutty, Thief, Wizard, blowjob, castle - Freeform, diverse, firemagic, gayromance, gaysmut, icemagic, inlove, loveandsex, murderspree, royal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:34:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 45,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24192193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casper_Smith/pseuds/Casper_Smith
Summary: Obsidian was raised to follow orders, like anyone else who worked for the queen. His job was a bit different, though. He was taught from the best on how to preform the perfect murder for the queen herself. She trusts him too much. All it takes is a few carefully picked words from a stranger to get Obsidian to realize he can make choices for himself. This new power of choice starts to make him stronger, especially regarding the magic he's been able to cast for years.He was ready to help make the whole kingdom crumble.
Relationships: Obsidian/Zicron
Kudos: 1





	1. Let’s Make a Deal

_ Obsidian, Castle Myonox. _

I leaned over the wooden railing of the balcony, overlooking the extravagant dining room. It was bustling with nobles like every other Sunday. I wished I could join them for just one night, just  _ one _ , but the queen always had an excuse. 

“I don’t need any nobles noticing a peasant such as yourself,” she had said tonight. She liked to call me that - a peasant - but I wasn’t. I was born into royalty, not by blood, but by ritual. The last person to take my place on this balcony had help from the court wizard to track down the child with the strongest… ‘signal’ of them all. That happened to be me this time around, as it was for the long line of royal assassins before me. The signal, the force that I had given off as a child was apparently strong enough to be felt halfway across the world. 

I had figured out by the time I was 7 that I definitely wasn’t from Myonox. I was far paler and my hair was lighter and my eyes were grey, not brown. The court wizard had told me that I was from way up north in Rain Hold, and then got a prompt and severe torturing for it. The queen was worried I’d run off in search of my parents, but I was never interested in that. Never really wanted a family. Whether that was my stance from birth or if it was taught to me at a young age, I don’t know. 

“Assassin,” a voice called from behind me. It was the queen’s personal guard, Wyvern. Neither of us had ever been on good terms before, he was the jealous type. He thought the queen liked me more, trusted me more, than him, and that made his blood boil. I never really cared what the queen thought of me - she gave me instructions and I followed (or, most of the time I would. I still have morals despite the job description). 

“Champion,” I responded, pulling the cuffs of my sleeves down further as I stepped back from the balcony. “Why aren’t you at the queen’s side?”

“Faendel told me to come find you,” he explained bitterly, his hand resting on his ceremonial sword. He meant it as a threat, but I knew the blade would snap in half if he tried to swing it at me. 

“What’s he want?” He shrugged as an answer. “He’s in the western tower, then?”

“Yep. Now get going,” he ordered, tossing his head towards the door, his black hair falling into his eyes. 

“Get back to work, then,” I chuckled, heading towards the door. My cloak waved behind me slightly as I moved, and I reached up to pull my hood further over my pale, curly hair. 

“At least my work has some honour to it,” he claimed, and I faltered at the large wooden door at the end of the hall. I adjusted my sleeves again and pulled the collar of my shirt up to cover the sides of my neck. 

“Our jobs aren’t so different, y’know, soldier?” I pointed out, and he rolled his eyes lazily, though he squinted to see me again, cloaked in the shadow of a marble column. The grand chandelier in the middle of the dining hall made it almost look like he was glowing. 

“I don’t murder people in their sleep or use… that thing,” he gestured vaguely to the crossbow slung across my back. The weapon wasn’t a very popular choice yet - it was a newer invention and wasn’t designed for close combat. It suited my needs perfectly, however. One bolt was all it took to kill a man, and it was very rarely that I got caught on a job. And even if I did get caught, it wasn’t hard to escape. I can climb, someone with a heavy sword and a set of armor can’t. 

“At least I never lose a battle,” I shot back with a light tone. I knew my lack of reaction to his words pissed him off, and that brought a smile to my lips. I slipped out of the room before he continued to argue and headed for the westernmost tower of the castle. Once the heavy wooden door closed behind me, the voices of noblemen and women became muted and all I could hear was quiet shuffling of servants through the dim halls. I stayed close to the walls, acting like a ghost as I stalked the halls. Years of practise had earned me the ability to basically disappear at will. All I needed was a few shadows and I could blend in perfectly. It was good for listening in on things I wasn’t meant to hear, or simply keeping my identity hidden from most. 

I wasn’t known by many people in the castle. There was the queen and Wyvern, of course, as well as the court wizard, Faendel, and the princess. Other than that, there was Quartz, the previous royal assassin, but she’s been dead for years. Or, we think she’s dead. Just disappeared one day. She taught me everything I know about staying hidden and causing bloodshed. 

I snuck into the wizard’s ocularium, playing my own game with the guards. Toss a marble (since I was very young I had carried a bag of them in one of the many pockets of my cloak,) watch them go investigate, and slip into the tower. They would have let me pass anyways, everyone knows I  _ belong _ here, but they don’t know why. I’ve been here longer than most, and those who have worked here for longer than I’ve lived have known me since I was a young child. 

I entered the main observatory to see Faendel setting up candles around the room in seemingly random patterns, like usual. I inhaled a deep breath and snapped my fingers, all of the candles flaring up. I felt a dull pain in my skull and heard the familiar echo of the ringing of my ears, but it died down in a few minutes. 

“We already know I can do candles,” I mentioned as I stepped into the room fully. Faendel sighed as he turned to look at me. “Give me a challenge for once.”

“You know I refuse to give you more until you perfect what you can do now,” the older man insisted, looking up through the window above and at the moons. 

“I don’t think I’m going to get better by lighting candles and freezing water and healing paper cuts,” I argued, sitting down hard on the bench next to his desk. 

“Years of climbing the same tower over and over again made you stronger,” he noted, gesturing for me to take my cloak off. I did as he wished, leaving my crossbow and bolts on the desk. I rolled my sleeves up to show the lines of faint red glowing through my skin. They were slowly fading back to their usual white colour, but the use of fire magic had tinted them red. I flexed my arm and a thick vein popped up slightly, the glow piercing my skin more. 

“The time it takes for my veins to go back to white is even shorter than before, I think I can handle some dangerous stuff,” I pointed out, but he shook his head and ran a hand through his dark hair. The light of the flickering candles and moons above shone against the few silver hairs he had. 

“You are not meant to use these powers for harm,” he preached like he always did. 

“I’m an  _ assassin,  _ I’m meant to cause carnage.”

“That’s besides the point, Obsidian,” he sighed, “you’re dangerous. I don’t know why you’re like this.”

“You speak like it’s a curse I have. A disease,” I told him. From a young age I remember seeing fear in his eyes when he looked at me. At first I thought it was because of my death count, but I slowly realized it was because of some unbridled rage he thought I had rolling deep inside of me, that someday would come out as a raging fire. 

“You think it’s not?” He asked genuinely, and I felt a stinging in my heart. 

“No,” I said, “it’s not a curse. Hasn’t caused me any trouble yet.”

“I find you passed out on your bedroom floor half the time!” He bursted out, and it shocked me for a moment. He was usually a pretty quiet man, and I rarely saw him so distressed. He must’ve had a bad day. “I worry about you sometimes. You’re going to… burn yourself out, for lack of a better term.” 

“I’m not going to -”

“OBSIDIAN!” The door burst open and princess Rose marched in. One glance at her beautiful face made my stomach fill with dread. 

“Yes, your highness?” I answered automatically. 

“I need your help,” she said, her eyebrows drawn together and her bottom lip pushed out, pouting. 

“I’m a tad busy, Rose,” I said, forgetting to address her properly. We had been friends since we were just children and had never defaulted to calling each other ‘your highness’ or ‘sir’, which had gotten me scolded by nobles many times in the past. “Ask a servant?”

“I need  _ your  _ help,” she reiterated, and I figured she had either had a fight with one of her friends or a man had wronged her in some way. I nodded to Faendel, honestly grateful to get to leave and practise my magic on my own. I pulled my cloak on and hung my crossbow over my shoulder before following Rose out of the tower. 

“You alright?” I asked as I offered her my arm. She wrapped her hand around it and I slowed my stride so she could keep up. 

“Oh, I’m fine,” she smiled, wiping her seemingly fake tears away from her cheeks, “I messed up my makeup for you though.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know you don’t like your bullshit lessons with Faendel,” she pointed out, acting nothing like a princess. “Wanna sneak down to the tavern and get wasted?”

“Absolutely,” I answered, laughing, “ _ but  _ I don’t think your mother would be very happy if we did that.”

“Oh, speaking of which - mom was talking to some nobleman about some guy, sounded like he was describing that bastard who keeps stealing your kills.”

“Really?” I blurted out, stopping and turning to her. She nodded and reached up to adjust my collar. My veins were probably showing, was my guess. I pulled my shirt cuffs down unconsciously. 

“Well I mean he mentioned how the guy murdered his wife - which you were supposed to have killed.”

“By Azrael I want that man’s blood on my hands so badly -”

“If mom asks, it wasn’t me who told you,” she cut in, and I nodded. I turned to begin walking away from her, but the first step Rose took ended with her on the floor. “Fucking heels!” She spat as she rolled to sit up. I crouched down beside her and laughed slightly. 

“Some princess you are,” I chucked, and she slapped my arm, but I could barely feel it through my thick cloak. 

“Think I cut my knee open,” she mentioned, hiking up her dress so I could see. She was right, the stone floor had cut a vicious scratch in her knee. The skin around her knee was already bruised since she was so clumsy and I tended to find her on the ground most of the time, and there were faint scars on her shins from places she had gotten cut before and I had healed back up. 

I pressed my palm against her open wound and concentrated. It took a few seconds for anything to happen, and my head started to hurt a little bit, but she hissed out in pain, which I had learned meant it was working. 

“Ouch, fuck, it burns,” she whined, digging her fingers into my shoulder. When I pulled my hand away I summoned a little bit of water to wash away the smeared blood from her skin and my hand. “Thanks,” she panted, pulling herself to stand. I winced and held a hand up to my forehead, rubbing my temples gently. I noticed a small drop of blood drip onto the floor under me, a nearby sconce illuminating it and causing it to glitter with a green-blue tint. 

“Wish I could practise healing more,” I mumbled, wiping the blood from under my nose. Rose was really my only subject I could use my magic on and not get called out for it - she never said a word about it to any of her servants or friends. She reached down and pushed my curly hair away from my forehead. 

“Maybe alcohol isn’t such a smart idea tonight,” she pointed out, “let me get you to bed, I should’ve just gone to the medic.”

“No, no, I had to,” I mentioned. She sighed, reaching up and pinching my nose far from gently, stopping the blood from spilling out. 

“You didn’t,” she argued, pulling me to stand and guiding me through the halls. The world was spinning underneath me and I leaned against the princess, the worry of being seen by a guard escaping my mind. 

“Wait, I should talk to the queen about-”

“Shh, there's always tomorrow,” she interrupted, “besides, I’m sure she’ll come looking for you anyways.”

I swatted her hand away from my nose and held it myself. The persistent headaches and nosebleeds were just a few of the symptoms I felt from using my magic. Like Faendel had said before, he’ll find me unconscious sometimes because I’ll use too much magic, or I’ll get somewhat of an unnatural sunburn across my entire body if I play with fire for too long. 

I shot a sharp jet of cold water up my nose and spat it out onto the stone tiles of the hallway. 

“That’s disgusting,” Rose said, sidestepping the puddle on the ground. I spat again, trying to get the taste of blood out of my mouth. Well, it was  _ quite  _ blood, it wasn’t metallic enough and had a hint of a salt and dirt taste to it. 

Rose dragged me up into the cold, central tower of the castle. The queen’s chambers were at the very top, and then there was mine and Rose’s one level below that, and Wyvern’s below us. The climb up to the second highest floor was a cruel one, especially at this moment in time. The guard stationed in front of Rose’s room had learned not to ask questions at this point, and simply opened the door to the left for us. Rose pulled me into my own room and sat me down on my bed. 

“There you go,” she said softly, pulling my crossbow off of my back and setting it on the floor next to my dresser. “Do you feel any better?”

“A bit,” I answered, but talking made my head hurt more. She returned to me and unclasped my cloak, folding it under her arm and laying it atop my dresser. 

“You’re lucky I’m so nice,” she chuckled, “where’s your dagger?”

I loosened my dagger from its sheath and placed it gently on my bedside table, directly beside where I sleep. She walked over and picked it up, running her fingers against the cold blade. 

“Don’t take it,” I wished quietly. My dagger was the one thing I liked to have with me at all times. I still have nightmares about the time the queen took it from me and threw me in the pit for a week. I tried my best to fashion another dagger out of a rock and a few sticks, but that didn’t work well enough. My weapon had defaulted to sticking the other combatants’ heads into a pool of water and freezing it. I’m not proud of those deaths I caused. Yes, I’m an assassin, but I only kill those who’ve caused actual harm. If the queen sends me to kill someone who simply gave her the wrong look, I’ll send them running into the hills, threatening that if they ever come back, I’ll have to kill them. 

“I won’t, you know I won’t,” she assured, “just admiring it. It’s a very nice blade.”

“It’s got the blood of hundreds on it,” I told her, “if not thousands. I lost count years ago.”

“Blood of the Ancient Ones on it too, huh?” She joked.

“I haven’t killed anything more than a nobleman,” I argued, unbuckling my belt and pulling my throwing knives off of it one by one, setting them on the table where my dagger now laid. 

“It’s got your blood on it,” she pointed out, sitting down next to me, “must be ancient, yours.” 

“I hope it isn’t,” I chuckled, my headache dying down. I rolled my sleeves up and looked at the glow of my now white veins. “I don’t need the wrath of one of the Ancient Ones upon me. Life’s hard enough.”

“I bet you could do some real damage to an Ancient One if you keep practising,” Rose encouraged, patting my back gently. She stood up and flattened her dress down. “But I think you need some sleep. I know I do,” she chuckled, walking over to the door. 

“Right, goodnight,” I responded as she left the room, closing the door quietly. I climbed out of bed and walked over to the window, looking out of the cloudy glass. I wanted to climb out and sit on the roof of the tower above me but I knew I’d probably pass out on the way up. The door opened again.

“Get your ass in bed,” Rose scolded jokingly, and I turned to look at her with a dead stare. “Go on. I command you to sleep.”

I sighed and left my window, dropping myself into bed, not bothering with the covers. I never really got cold anyways. 

“If I catch you sneaking out I’ll stab you,” she threatened as she closed the door again. I looked up at the ceiling for a few minutes before rolling to face away from the window, towards the door. I grabbed my dagger off the table and hung my arm over the side of the bed so I wouldn’t stab myself. I couldn’t fall asleep if I didn’t have a grip on the weapon. Always had a fear of being slaughtered in my sleep. I wrapped the strap attached to the end of the handle around my wrist and buried half of my face in my pillow. I noticed the slight white glow of my veins on the fabric of my pillow and fell into a light sleep as I traced the illuminated area with my free hand.   


* * *

“Obsidian,” a voice knocked me out of my dreams. 

“Huh?” I uttered out as I sat up. It was still pitch dark, but the mass of long, straight hair belonging to the silhouette at the window made me realize who it was. “Oh, your majesty, I apologize.”

“I think I’ve found him,” she continued, pacing over to the side of my bed. I pulled the strap of my dagger off my wrist and tucked the blade into my waistband. I pulled the bottom of my shirt over the top of it. 

“Who…?” I asked, trying to get my thoughts together. I pulled my hands through my hair in an attempt to wake up. 

“The man who’s been causing us some trouble lately,” she explained, handing me a sheet of paper. I raised my hand up and took a few moments of concentration to ignite it, illuminating the room and the tired face of the queen. I took the paper in my unlit hand and looked at the drawing. 

“Right,” I said, remembering what Rose had said earlier, “I didn’t expect him to look like this,” I noted. The sketch was of a younger guy, not much older than me. It wasn’t coloured, obviously, but he definitely didn’t look like a murderer.

“Do you remember Isabella May? The noblewoman you were meant to kill maybe… a month ago?” She questioned, tossing my cloak at me.  _ Right, guess I’m going out. Good thing my head isn’t killing me anymore. _

“Yeah, I remember her,” I answered as the flame coating my hand went out. 

“Her husband was speaking with me, described this man,” she explained while I clasped my cloak around my shoulders, “we don’t know his name, but I’ve seen him before. Not entirely sure where, but you know most people in town.”

“Never seen him before. Probably trying to avoid me,” I pointed out, folding the paper up and putting it in my pocket, “I’m sure he’s probably been seen at the tavern before though, I can ask there.”

“I want that man dead, Obsidian,” she ordered while I grabbed my gauntlets out of my dresser, sliding them over my glowing forearms. 

“Consider it done,” I accepted, grabbing my crossbow and dagger. I slid my belt through its loops and sheathed my dagger before slipping my throwing knives back into their little pockets on the belt itself. I walked past the queen and to my window. 

“What are you doing?” She asked as I pushed the bottom panel of the window up. The warm midnight’s breeze hit my face and brushed my hair back.

“It’ll help me wake up,” I claimed, climbing out of the window and hanging onto the ledge. “I’ll be back by sunrise, your majesty,” I promised before letting go of the ledge and dropping down to the next windowsill. I had done this climb a thousand times before, dropping down the seven stories of the tower and onto the roof of the main part of the castle. Once I was on the roof, all I had to do was jog silently across it, towards the main gate. I climbed down into the courtyard and followed the edge of the garden to the entrance to the castle. Of course, there were guards at the gate, so I climbed up the stone pillar at the side of the gate and perched myself at the top. 

I reached into one of the inside pockets of my cloak and fished out my bag of marbles. There was a store in town, it sold pottery and glassware. Every month, I’d go in and buy a bag of marbles. The sweet lady who owned the shop always asked why I needed so many marbles, but I could never answer truthfully. “I’m just a collector,” I usually answered, but she never really believed me. I mean, I don’t exactly look like the collecting type, unless it’s knives we’re talking about. 

I took one marble between my fingers and returned the bag into my pocket. I pulled one of my gauntlets off and held the marble in my closed fist, concentrating all of my body heat into the little glass ball. I felt a tad dizzy, and my veins lit up like the stars, but when I opened my fist, the marble gleamed like scalding hot metal. I cranked my arm back and hucked it across the road below me. 

“What was that?” One of the guards asked, the sound of the marble alerting him. The other guard, the one closest to me, had seen the light of the marble and walked over to where it landed. I took my chance and hopped off the pillar, taking cover in the nearby foliage. I didn’t look back to see if either of the guards had seen me, I knew they hadn’t. Again, years of doing this exact thing had taught me that none of the guards paid much attention in this castle, and the few that did knew I was important. 

As I wandered the cobblestone streets, sticking to the shadows on the way to the tavern, I pulled my other gauntlet off so I could feel the air against my skin. I could hear the liveliness of the tavern from many streets over, and when I entered, I was blasted with the scent of alcohol and sweaty soldiers. I headed straight to the bartender, who knew me by a fake name but recognized I was an assassin. I mean, I’d ask about someone, and a few days later, they’d be pronounced dead or missing. I paid him a pretty penny to keep him quiet. As soon as he saw me, he dropped what he was doing and came over to me. 

“Seen this guy?” I asked the man, showing him the drawing. He took it from me and examined the picture. 

“Might have,” he said, “depends what you’re paying.” I pulled a few silvers out of my cloak and slid them across the table. He smiled slightly and took them immediately. “He stops by quite often. I’m pretty sure he lives in one of the smaller houses near the shoreline, I’ve seen him around there before.”

“Right, thank you,” I told him quickly, pulling the drawing out of his hands and putting it back in my pocket. 

I left the tavern quickly and headed straight for the docks. I found myself jogging there and not taking my time like usual, the adrenaline of finding this bastard getting to me. The sound of the lake made me relax a little bit as I paced through the streets with small little cabins on them. I decided that it was probably my best bet to look through windows in search of this man, so I slid in behind a row of cabins and started invading many people’s privacy. 

“Heard you were looking for me,” a voice cut in, and I spun around. There he was, the flash bastard, standing on a tall crate in the dark alleyway behind me. He looked somewhat similar to the picture I had - fluffy hair, a round face - his hair was dark, maybe not quite black from what I could see, and he seemed a bit shorter than me. I reached back to grab my already loaded crossbow. 

He held his hands up dismissively. “Listen for a second. I’ve been trying to get your attention for a while, Obsidian.”

I pointed my crossbow directly at his skull. “How do you know my name?”

“I have eyes and ears in the castle,” he explained, hopping off the crate. He landed silently, and I had to say I was a bit surprised, considering all the buckles and straps attached to his leather armour. I knew he was a talented assassin, but I refused to believe he was better than me. 

“What do you want?”

“Let’s make a deal,” he began, “trust me, it will only bring good.”

“Right, start explaining then,” I threatened, “and fast.”

“By Azrael, I heard you were kind of stubborn but I didn’t think you were  _ this  _ stubborn,” he sighed, “but here's our plan. I like to call myself a revolutionist. I’m in charge of a large group of them, you know some of them by name,” he explained, and I tried to piece together who could’ve been friends with this guy. “We want to overthrow the queen.”

“ _ What?”  _ I uttered out. At the moment it seemed ludicrous to me, but as I thought about it, I started to… agree.

“Look at this place!” He gestured vaguely, “so many people are so poor, you’ve seen them. So sick and hungry.”

“I… I’ve voiced my concerns about this to her majesty,” I mumbled, lowering my crossbow slightly. 

“I know you have, I know you have a conscience. That’s why I want your help,” he continued. He adjusted his overcoat as he paced a circle around me. “Here’s the catch about this revolution. The other members of this cause don’t know this, but I want to throw the kingdom into anarchy. Think about how much money a thief like me and an assassin like you could make in a kingdom that’s got no law.”

“I don’t need money,” I told him blandly, keeping my eye on him. The moonlight allowed me to notice that his hair was a chocolate brown colour. I noted that he called himself a thief, despite the amount of blood on his hands. 

“I know, but you want to live for yourself for once,” he pointed out, “want to have your own choices in life. Don’t want to have to worry about your own life when you choose to spare another’s.”

“Okay, get to your point,” I interrupted. He was right. I wasn’t sure I liked that he knew all these things about me. 

“Well, I don’t quite trust you yet,” he said in his oddly charming voice, “so I want you to… I know you’re not a fan of the queen’s personal guard. Steal his ceremonial sword and bring it back to me.”

I went to argue but found that I couldn’t. “Okay,” I said instead, “I’m not a thief though.  _ If  _ I do that and  _ if  _ I get caught, I expect you to do something about it.”

“If you try to do it, I’ll know I can trust you. If you do go through with it, you can find me at the top of the church tower,” he pointed at the spire piercing the sky on the other side of the city, “every night, when the red moon rises.”

“Sounds like some sort of ritual,” I chuckled. 

“You’d know a lot about rituals,” he mentioned, and I faltered for a second. 

“Who is it? In the castle, I mean,” I asked, trying not to sound like I was interrogating him. “There are very few people who know who I am, and even less who know about the locating ritual.”

“Trust me, now that you know they’re there, you’ll realize how many traitors there are in your castle.” He began to walk away. “Oh,” he remembered, turning back to me, “take this.” He tossed me a small bag.

“What is it?” 

“Proof that you did what you were told to,” he smiled slightly, showing me his hand. He was missing a finger, his little finger. The gauze that he had wrapped around it was bloody and red. I felt the slight want to help him, to try and heal his wound, but I decided against it. I shouldn’t be helping him. 

“Right. I’ll think about it. If I decide against it, I’ll come back and slaughter you,” I mentioned. I think a tiny part of my soul told him that so he’d be prepared if that day came. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he laughed like he wasn’t scared of me. Like he knew I wouldn’t kill him. He turned and walked down the same dark alleyway he had come from and disappeared. 

I sighed and headed back to the castle, opening the small pouch he had given me. It was his finger alright. Flesh and bones never made me sick or anything, so I pulled it out and the ring attached to his finger fell off onto the cobblestone path. The metal made a high pitched ringing noise that reminded me of the sound I heard when I used too much magic. I picked it up and inspected it in the light of a street lamp. Made of silver, by the looks of it. A pale blue gemstone sat in the middle of it, and I wondered why he’d be willing to give something like that up. I tried to slide it onto my ring finger, but it was too small. Right, it was his fifth finger. I put it on my little finger and looked at it in the light again. I liked the colour blue. 

The walk back to the castle wasn’t very eventful. It only consisted of me trying to decide on what I was supposed to do. Everything that man - don’t even know his name - had said were the exact things I had been thinking for years. He probably knew that, and that’s why it convinced me. 

I snuck into the castle the same way I got in, and climbed the central tower, back to my open window. I passed that window and climbed up one more level, then knocked on the window of the queen’s chamber. She was there in a heartbeat, and it almost scared me. She popped the window open. 

“It’s done,” I lied, handing her the pouch with the severed finger in it. She took it and looked inside before wincing. 

“That’s disgusting,” she said, sounding just like her daughter. She tossed it back to me. “Go get some rest.”

I nodded slightly, the tiny sliver of hope that she might say ‘good job’ or something similar sizzling away like boiling water. I dropped down to my own window and slid into my frigid room. I could feel the tickle of the cold but the real feeling of the air was muted from the boiling blood in my veins. I sighed a long breath out and closed my window behind me. I dropped my crossbow on the dresser, along with the little pouch with the severed finger in it. I should’ve gone to the queen, told her what had happened, but I knew I’d probably get a month in the pit for it. But, even if I  _ could _ tell her and not get any sort of punishment, I  _ wanted _ to do it, to steal the sword and take it to that man. 

I  _ wanted _ out. 

I  _ wanted  _ to be something a little bit more than an assassin. 

I was always told not to do what I wanted but hey, I wasn’t one to listen either. I made sure my dagger was loose in its sheath as I left my room through the door. The guard in front of Rose’s room nodded to me, used to me leaving my room in the middle of the night. 

I shuffled through the dark tower, avoiding pale moonlight spilling through the windows on my way down the stairs. When I reached Wyvern’s room a few floors down, I realized a problem with the guard standing outside. I didn’t want to hurt the guard, she was only doing her job, but there was no way I could get into Wyvern’s room without removing her from the area. I slipped behind the corner of the stairwell and whistled quickly. 

The guard whipped around and looked directly at me in the dark. I held my breath as she tilted her head and squinted into the dark. She began advancing towards me and drew her shortsword off my belt. I decided to take a risk and stared her down even though she clearly couldn’t see me yet, focusing every part of my being. My vision became sharper and the shadows appeared to lighten, but I knew it was an illusion. I felt the ache in my head return as I snapped my fingers. She gasped in alarm as she realized I was there, but very quickly fell forward and I caught her. She was out cold. 

I sat the guard down in the corner of the hallway next to the door to Wyvern’s room, making sure she didn’t hit her head, before I slowly reached to push the door latch up. I rested my fingers belonging to my free hand on the top of the latch while I pushed it up from the bottom so it wouldn’t make that distracting clicking noise.

I pushed the door open at an agonizingly slow pace, making sure the old hinges didn’t creak. The last thing I wanted was to be blade to blade with the Queen’s champion. We had sparred a few times before to calm down a little bit, get our anger out, and he was strong, I couldn’t lie. My muscles weren’t for heavy weapons and throwing fists, they were for being perfectly still, running fast, and climbing. 

The pale moonlight flooding in from his closed window showed me that the soldier was fast asleep in his bed. I crept in, footsteps silent as always. I worried my simple prescience would alert him, but I knew it wouldn’t happen. It had never happened before, at least. But then again, if anyone ever did wake up while I was in their house, they were dead moments later. 

There was the sword, sitting in its sheath near the window. I crossed the room quickly and grabbed it, hiding it under my cloak. The sounds of a tired man waking up made me freeze. I reached over to the window and unlatched it silently as I planned my escape. I stepped in front of the window and faced the room before jumping slightly in place, my hand tight around the sheath of the ceremonial sword. 

“What the hell?” Wyvern mumbled as he sat up. 

“My window was locked,” I lied, turning and closing his window again. 

“Ugh,” he groaned, “you could’ve just come in the front gate.”

“And be seen as a trespasser?” I proposed as I walked towards the door quickly. 

“Whatever, get out,” he growled as he flipped over in bed. I slipped out of the room and into the corridor with the unconscious guard. Crouching down beside her, I snapped in her face. Her eyes shot open and she gasped, scrambling around on the floor. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” I cooed quietly, patting her head with my free hand. The sword stayed concealed under my cloak as I helped her up. 

“What happened?” She asked, and I shrugged. 

“Just found you here. You feeling sick?” I questioned like the liar I am. 

“A… a little bit. Damn, I’ll probably get fired for this,” she sighed, shaking her head. 

“I won’t say a word,” I assured, but she shrugged in defeat. 

“I don’t really want to work here anymore anyways,” she chuckled, “I could get a far better job. I’m sick of this castle.”  _ Oh,  _ I realized,  _ oh, it’s you. _

__ “You’re the one who told him I was coming,” I guessed, and she looked at me with a fearful spark in her eye. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sir,” she said in a shaky voice. I smiled slightly, pulling the sword out from under my cloak. 

“Hide this somewhere, give it to another one of the traitors. As soon as he realizes it’s gone, you and I will be the first to be interrogated.”

“You didn’t kill him?” She spoke with such hope. I nodded in confirmation, and her smile widened. 

“Come and find me when you’re ready to take it back to Zicron,” she said as she began walking towards the stairwell. 

“Zicron?” I asked quietly.

“He didn’t even tell you his name? This whole time, he’s been waiting to meet you, so excited to finally meet you, and he forgets his own name. Of course he did,” she chuckled, “anyways, you should get some rest. You’ve had a long night.” And with that, she disappeared down the stairs, going off to hide the sword. 

I felt a tiny drop of blood drip down my chin. 

I needed sleep, and thankfully got to rest until dawn. 

_ Zicron, Myonox. _

I waltzed back into the tavern, my spirits higher than they had been in a long time. 

“I lived, bitches,” I called, and everyone started laughing. Half of them were part of the rebellion, and the other half just thought an assassin was sent to kill me. I walked over to the bar and hopped on a stool. 

“How’d you do it? He seemed pretty dead set on killing you,” Lance, the barkeeper, asked as he poured me a tall flask of beer. He was one of the most important people in the revolutionaries. I mean, anyone could be seen talking to him multiple times a day and he knew just about everyone in the kingdom. 

“Rita was right, he feels like he’s stuck in the castle, wants to live for himself,” I answered. Rita was one of our moles in the castle, she had a talent of ‘accidentally’ overhearing Obsidian and the princess talking. 

“Hey, Zicron!” A familiar voice called as she sat down beside me. It was Slate, my second in command. I’ve known her since we were children being raised in the covenant, and trusted her more than anyone in this dingy city. “Thank Azrael you’re okay, I must admit, I was worried.” She brushed her red braids back from her forehead and tucked a few behind her ear. 

“I’m the king of charm, I convinced him to join us,” I chuckled. Lance poured her a drink before leaving to tend to other people. “Or, I think I did. Told him to steal the queen’s champion’s sword to prove his alliance.”

“You’re making a deal with the devil, I’m telling you,” she mentioned, taking a drink. 

“We have the same origin, both born killers. I don’t think he’s much older than me, I’m probably just as skillful as him,” I pointed out. I took a long drink in an attempt to dull the pain in my left hand. Part of me hoped Obsidian stole my ring, that he kept it, but the other part of me hoped he went and sold it for a few silvers. 

“He’s royally trained by the most successful line of assassins in the world, don’t get cocky. We still don’t know if he went straight back and told the queen what happened,” Slate said quietly, shifting in her seat. “Also, you need a new bandage, that one’s all bloody.”

“He would’ve killed me that instant had he actually wanted to serve the queen,” I reasoned, “he threatened that he’d come back and kill me if he changed his mind, but I think he might’ve meant that as an actual warning.” 

“What do you mean, ‘actual warning’?”

“Like he wanted me to be ready if he  _ did _ come and find me,” I explained before shrugging, “just a thought, though. He might actually want my head severed from my shoulders.”

“Well what’s next then?” She continued. I drank down half my beer in one go, begging to dull the pain. I had cut my finger off myself no more than five hours ago. I was dedicated to the plan, to say the least. 

“With him, we can pull some strings in the castle so the higher ups start turning against each other. That’s when we’re gonna run for the hills and go warn the neighboring kingdoms that Myonox is crumbing, now would be a good time to fight.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” she accepted. That wasn’t the entirety of the plan though. What she didn’t know was that I wasn’t planning on joining the war. At the last second, I’d tell her we’re taking a boat to Winter’s Edge, hopefully bring Obsidian along if he’s still alive. We’d wait a few years before coming back, and just hope that the war ended with huge casualties and everyone threw up the white flag. If the queen was still standing, we’d just walk in and kill her, then disappear into the night. Anarchy ensues. 

The other option is to bribe the queen into removing all laws regarding the economy, but based on what I’ve heard about her, she probably wouldn’t agree to that. Doesn’t matter, that’s years from now. 

“Is he cute?” Slate asked jokingly. She liked to make fun of my odd tastes in people, y’know, the fact that they aren’t all women. “Northerner, right? Does he have that pretty coloured hair I’ve heard about?”

“Looked like it. It was a bit dark out,” I chuckled, “but yeah, he looked pretty handsome.” I could feel my face darken a bit as she smiled wide and leaned against the table. 

“Ooh, maybe something will happen between you two?” She said dramatically, gesturing under the table. I bit the inside of my cheek to mask a smile and crossed my legs. “He’d understand your choice in career.”

I laughed a little bit, “that’d be nice.” It really would be. Literally every person I had ever been attracted to ditched me the second they found out I killed people (in a clearly not ‘honourable’ manner). The whole idea of honour was stupid to me. Even if you fight someone to the death during a battle, you’re still killing them. At least I have a sense of survival. 

That’s not me saying that what I do is acceptable, trust me, I know I’m a bit insane. But the  _ rush  _ of dragging a blade across someone’s neck and knowing you have the ability to get away with it… it’s all I’ve ever known. I was born into the covenant, the largest group of assassins on the continent. I was never important in the covenant by any means, just someone who took contracts and got paid a handful of silver for each kill. I wanted to be worth something, so I left. I just got up and left. Slate came with me, but the rest of the covenant completely refused to believe I even existed anymore. Still haven’t heard from any of them since. I’ve seen a few of my old friends around, but none ever notice me, or they pretend not to. 

“I wonder what a royal assassin’s training regimen is,” I asked myself, and Slate shrugged beside me. 

“Pretty extreme, I’d guess. I mean, you’ve seen how worked the royal guard is, and this guy’s basically the queen’s assistant. Little murder slave.”

“Wouldn’t call him little,” I chuckled, and she gave me a surprised and suggesting look. “What? He’s way taller than me.”

“Of course that’s what you meant,” she sighed. 

“Well maybe he has a big dick too,” I joked, knocking back the rest of my beer. She snorted and shook her head in fake disapproval. I looked down at my wounded hand and noticed how blood soaked the bandage was getting. 

“You’re still bleeding? You might want to see a doctor,” Slate mentioned, a worried tone passing through her words. 

“I’ll be fine,” I brushed off, waving the barkeep over. 

“You don’t look fine,” she pointed out as Lance came over. 

“What’s up?” He asked.

“Could I get a bucket of water?” I requested as I stood up. I felt a little woozy, but I’d had worse injuries before. He nodded and gestured for me to follow him into the back of the building. It was still loud in the next room over, but the sounds of people celebrating became muffled. 

“You can stay here tonight if you want,” Lance offered as he filled a bucket from a keg. I shook my head a little bit. 

“Nah, I can make it home,” I assured as I unwrapped my bandages. I crouched down and dipped my hand in the cold water gingerly, the temperature stinging my wound. 

“Here, need a towel?” He asked, but he was already handing me one. 

“Might ruin it,” I said, gently rubbing at the area around where my little finger used to be. 

“I know how to get blood out of just about everything, I own a tavern in a town full of angry drunks.”

“Fair enough,” I responded. I pulled my hand out of the water and gently dried it off with the towel before fishing my roll of bandages out of my cloak. Lance helped me dress my wound, going on about how it probably wouldn’t be enough, but I didn’t listen. 

I thanked him for helping me out and gave a farewell to Slate before heading back home. It wasn’t too far of a walk, luckily, and I made it without passing out or anything. I made sure I locked the door to my little cabin behind me and crawled down into the little hatch in the floor. I didn’t really live up top. Was worried someone from the covenant would come kill me, but it hasn’t happened yet. I didn’t bother lighting a lantern as I got undressed very carefully and hopped in bed. 

Tomorrow awaits. 


	2. There’s Nothing Like the Spill of Fresh Blood

_Obsidian, Castle Myonox._

I watched the sun rise from the window of my bedroom, sharpening my favourite dagger. I had gotten maybe 3 hours of sleep maximum, but that was all I needed. After I first started being able to control my magic, I noticed that I didn’t need nearly as much sleep, like the power flowing through my body could keep me moving and alert. Anticipation gripped at my heart. 

I still had a chance to turn this around, to tell the queen about what Zicron said. I could lie about it, say I stole the sword so I could lure out his followers and we could send them all to the gallows. 

It was what I _should_ do. 

Which was why I wasn’t going to do it. I had thought and rethought about what Zicron had said last night and those words really awakened something in me. _“...You want to live for yourself for once, want to have your own choices in life. Don’t want to have to worry about your own life when you choose to spare another’s.”_ I didn’t know a thing about him but he knew even the deepest thoughts in my head. 

Zicron himself was a charming character, which had put me off at first. I felt like I was being manipulated, but now that I look back at it, I don’t think I was. Maybe he was vouching for me not to kill him, but he wasn’t trying to manipulate me into working for him. No, it was all my _choice._

Zicron must’ve been raised an assassin, considering his name and skills. From what I could remember though, the gemstone was called zircon and not zicron, but I wasn’t sure. My rock was Obsidian, I wasn’t too concerned with anything else. I looked at the ring on my finger, glittering in the morning sunlight. It must’ve been zircon, I didn’t recognize it as anything else. Wasn’t blue enough to be a sapphire. 

I tightened my grip on my blade when my door burst open. 

“You bastard, you stole my sword!” Wyvern accused as he marched in. I turned slowly and put on a stoic face, noticing the queen standing behind him with a confused expression. 

“Why would I take your sword?” I asked as genuinely as I could, tucking my knife under my lowest belt, beside my satchel full of marbles. I set my knife file on the dresser across from my bed. 

“You came in my window last night, that’s where it was!” He yelled, causing me to lean back against my window sill and cross my arms. He turned to the queen and gestured wildly. 

“Your window was _open_ when I got to it,” I lied. “I climbed up to talk to her majesty, then went to return to my own room. _My_ window was locked, and it obviously wasn’t me who locked it.”

“You probably pulled one of your magic tricks! Teleported it out of there just to fuck with me!” He reasoned, but I shook my head and pressed my fingers to my temples. 

“I can’t _teleport_ things. And keep your voice down, would ya?” I spoke calmly. That was the truth, I couldn’t teleport things. My telekinesis wasn’t nearly as rusty as any other magic I could cast, since it was the easiest to practise without causing some damage, but even then I couldn’t pull a sword to me from across the room. 

“Wyvern, that’s enough,” the queen snapped, and his jaw dropped. “He didn’t take it. I suggest we look into the guard stationed outside your room, she was missing when you woke up.”

“She was there when I left, was feeling a bit feverish,” I mentioned, hoping they wouldn’t go searching for her. “What was her name again?”

“Rita,” Wyvern answered as he walked over to my bed and dropped on his knees so he could look under it. 

“I don’t have it,” I repeated simply, no emotion in my voice. He pulled a box out from under my bed, pulling out a broken blade that was missing a handle. “Oh, hey, I was looking for that,” I said, walking over and taking it from him, “could make some extra throwing knives with it.”

“Wyvern, out,” the queen hissed, “stop bothering him, let’s go look elsewhere.” The soldier sighed, but obliged, standing up and following her. He sent me a bitter look that could cut glass as he closed the door. I let out a breath that I noticed I had been holding and looked back out the window, checking the height of the sun. I pocketed the broken blade. 

“What was that about?” The welcoming voice of Princess Rose asked. I shrugged, turning to her. Her dark hair was a rats nest and there were bags under her eyes. 

“Someone stole douchebag’s sword, he thinks it was me,” I explained. 

“Well, was it?” I shook my head. 

“No, I have no reason to,” I lied. I couldn’t even trust Rose with this information yet. I knew she wouldn’t tell anyone, but I wasn’t sure she would be entirely okay with me working with someone who wants to overthrow her mother, and therefore overthrow her as well. 

“Oh. Well then who do you think took it?” She asked, a bit of concern lacing her tone. 

“Not a clue. A maid, maybe,” I guessed, wandering across my room and to my bedside table. I opened it and pushed past a few forgotten books about spellcraft that were written centuries ago and held no meaning to me.

“I heard you say his window was opened, that means they came from outside,” she pointed out, sitting down on my bed and holding her hands in her lap nervously. 

“And?” I pulled out a rock the size of my palm. It was heavy, pure obsidian. I ran my other hand over the top of it. I didn’t exactly believe in luck, but apparently if you touched the rock which you shared your name with, it brought fortune. It was just a habit at this point, and I thought the rock was pretty. Reminded me of the shadows. 

“And?! Obsidian, what if they wanted to kill him? Or _me_? Or mom!” She argued, gesturing like Wyvern had minutes before. 

“They stole a flimsy ceremonial sword that has no value because nobody will buy it. You’re not in danger.”

“How do we know this isn’t just a distraction so they have a chance to drop in and murder us all?”

“Rose,” I sighed, trying to get her to relax, “anybody who had the knowledge on how to climb up the castle walls past all those guards knows that I’m here, and nobody smart enough to pull off the murder of the rulers of the kingdom would cross me.”

She sighed a shaky sigh. “I’m too tired for this,” she mumbled, putting her face in her hands. She peeked past her fingers to look up at me, her gaze faltering on my hands around my black rock. 

“New ring?” She asked, changing the topic. I looked down at the silver and blue ring around my little finger. 

“Yeah, I stole it off the guy I killed last night -”

“Oh! I nearly forgot! So you got him? Did he fight back?” She cut in, her body language changing from worried to excited. 

“Damn right he fought back, nearly got me in the stomach,” I chuckled at my own lie. I mean, Zicron has more muscle than I do, I remember that, but he’s shorter so I might’ve been able to knock him over. We were probably an even match, minus my magical abilities. 

“Clearly you came out unscathed?” She pointed out, gesturing to my body. 

“Oh yeah I was fine. He was talented, but not enough to do any damage,” I explained off the top of my head as I set my rock back down in the drawer. I walked over to my dresser and grabbed my cloak, wrapping it around my shoulders and clasping the buckle together. I hung my crossbow from my back and pulled my hood up, checking myself out in the mirror. I pulled the collar of my shirt up to hide my neck as much as I could. 

“Almost sounds like you like him,” Rose joked, and I rolled my eyes. 

“Couldn’t see him in the dark very well, maybe he’s hot.” I slid my gauntlets on, getting used to the feeling of the ring being under them. “Well, maybe he _was_ hot.”

“Where are you off to?” She asked, standing up to follow me out the door. 

“Blacksmith’s, want to stock up on throwing knives,” I told her as we stepped out into the hall. 

“Oh, I’d go with you, but I’m a disaster,” she said apologetically, “but don’t you have enough knives?” She pointed at the belt that went from my shoulder down to my waist that all my throwing knives were tucked into. 

“You can never tell me I have too many knives,” I joked. _But I’m stocking up because I have no idea how long I’ll be around to get them for free._

“Fair enough, you have hundreds of knives,” she laughed, already heading for her own room. “Come find me later if you’re bored though.” She stepped into her room and left me in the halls alone. I tucked a blond curl behind my ear and headed downstairs.

I passed quite a few maids who were trying to get the castle together for the day and guards switching off their shifts, but they all ignored me. I caught a few staring like normal, but it didn’t bother me. I realized a long time ago that if I started greeting them as I passed or giving them even a smile, they’d probably give me some attention. I was raised to keep quiet, though, to be threatening, and it was a lot easier to hide my identity if nobody asked. And it wasn’t just for my protection that nobody found out I was an assassin, it was for the queen’s. I know that every monarch in the world has a personal assassin, but the citizens would probably riot if they found out the queen had a hitman and was sending me out to kill people she was meant to protect. 

They’d riot. I should mention that to Zicron. 

I headed out to the castle courtyard and to the royal blacksmith. You could hear him from across the kingdom, banging away at metal on his anvil. He was familiar with me, and I was kind to him, so he didn’t try to avoid or ignore me. 

“Hello sir!” He greeted as he set down his hammer. 

“Morning, Clyde,” I smiled under my hood. 

“Must be hot under that cloak,” he mentioned, gesturing to the morning sun, but I didn’t actually feel the heat. Temperature didn’t really affect me. “What’re you looking to get today?”

“Some more throwing knives would be fantastic,” I requested, grabbing my broken blade out of my pocket. “I found this old dagger blade, thought you might be able to use it.” He took it and inspected it. 

“Well, the metals already hardened, so I can’t remelt it into an ingot, and the tang is broken so I can’t put another handle on, but I might be able to make it into a nice decoration,” he explained. 

“Oh well in that case, might as well throw it out,” I chuckled, but he shook his head.

“No, no, I’ll find a use for it someday. I’ll let you know what becomes of it,” he smiled. I wondered how someone who slaves away at a forge all day every day could be so kind and cheerful to a shady stranger who everyone else avoids like the plague. “Now, you said throwing knives? I’ll get right to that. I’ll make… how about ten?”

“Sounds perfect,” I accepted, “thank you.” He nodded, sealing the deal. 

“Come see me later tonight or in the morning, whenever you’re available,” he mentioned, “oh, have you seen what the queen’s champion has been up to? Came charging through here interrogating everyone about his stolen sword.”

I sighed in annoyance and rolled my eyes. “He’s being ridiculous, nobody’s going to straight up confess to theft to him. I’m gonna go see if I can knock some sense into him.”

“Be careful, sir. Prosperity be with you,” he said as I walked away. I would’ve responded, but I didn’t pray to the ancient being of prosperity. No, almost every assassin I had ever heard of in the history of forever has prayed to the angel of death, we call him Azrael. That probably wasn’t his name, but some random philosopher of the ancient times decided that was his name and nobody argued. The philosopher claimed that he had spoken to Azrael, and that he said that in a few thousand years time, he would send his child, half human, half god, down to destroy the world. Assassins lost track of the years, but we all killed for the same reason. Well, other than being ordered to do it, I, along with most others, believed that every person we killed’s soul would be sent to Azrael so he could give the bringer of the end more power. 

Probably just a children’s story, but I liked to think it was true. What did it matter anyways? The end of the world wasn’t actually going to happen.

I found Wyvern bullying a group of gardeners in the courtyard. 

“Trust me, when we find whoever took it, they’ll be sent to the pit, unless they fess up immediately! So I’ll ask one more time, did you take it?” He threatened.

“Wyvern, leave the poor people alone, they’re just trying to do their jobs,” I interrupted as I walked up. Wyvern sighed a very angry and rage fueled sigh.

“Not you again, this isn’t your place to be,” he growled. 

“Nobody’s going in the pit,” I assured the workers calmly, gesturing for them to go back to their duties. 

“Hey! I wasn’t done talking to them!” He argued, “besides, who says you get the right to control this investigation?”

“Trust me, I’m saving you from trouble,” I reasoned, “everyone’s going to hate you even more after this. One thing leads to another, and people start telling her majesty off for trusting you.”

“...it doesn’t matter what they think of me, I’m trustworthy,” he insisted, but I could tell he understood what I meant and hated that I was right. 

“Here’s my advice - go in, be civil, ask around if anyone’s seen or heard anything about your sword, and if they say they have no idea, don’t pester them. Someone will have some information, and I’m sure they’d be willing to share.”

He stared at the ground for a second before sighing in defeat. “Fine. But don’t think you’re off the hook, I still think you had some part in this.” He marched off in search for his worthless little weapon. I couldn’t be one to judge though, I cried whenever I had my dagger taken away at this point. 

I headed for the soldier’s barracks at the bottom of the eastern tower, looking for Rita, the guard who had taken the sword from me during the night. When I found her, she was already whispering to me before I could get a word out. 

“Reed has it, he’s down in the dungeon, I think he hid it in one of the cells.”

“Right, okay. If Wyvern comes in here and asks about it, spin a lie about you seeing a figure taking off towards the north side of the city during the night,” I explained. 

“I assume you were in the south?” She asked, just to make sure all our tracks were covered. I gave her a quick nod before heading down to the dungeon. 

I could feel the tingle of the colder air underneath the castle, and the smell wasn’t very pleasant, but I looked for the guard who called himself Reed. I knew what he looked like, didn’t know him personally though. Never would’ve guessed he was a rebel, he seemed like such a loyal soldier. When he saw me, he beckoned me over. He didn’t say a word, but nodded back to the cell behind him. It was empty, so I entered and searched around, finding the sword buried under a pile of straw on the floor. 

“‘S that the executioner?” The prisoner across the hall asked.

“No, but he’ll kill you if you don’t shut your mouth,” Reed threatened as I slipped the sword under my cloak. I adjusted my collar while I was at it, then spun a quick lie to throw off suspicion. 

“Cell’s clear, the last prisoner was lying. They didn’t leave a knife,” I said loud enough for the guard down the hall to hear. Reed nodded, giving me that knowing look. 

“Thank you sir, you can return to your duties,” he recited, and I bet he had said it a thousand times in his life, and he didn’t look very old. 

“Is there anywhere else I might be needed?” I asked, a bit quieter. He shook his head again. 

“No. Church,” he simply stated, dancing around his words just in case. I patted his shoulder and headed out of the dungeon, making sure my cloak stayed wrapped around my body, hiding that god forsaken sword. 

I went back to my room, stopping by the kitchen to grab a bite to eat. I hid the sword in the false compartment at the bottom of my dresser, throwing a bunch of loose clothing and assorted weapons on top. I sat down on my bed and dropped my cloak and gauntlets off on the bedside table. 

I’d go easy on myself today, practicing my magic. Didn’t want to be tired or in pain for my trek up the side of the church tonight. I decided to just do a run through of all the spells I knew, minus the healing ones since I didn’t have any test subjects. I couldn’t begin to describe how I do it, how I summon magic. I just focus and will it into existence. There’s no real difference between igniting my hand with flames or picking up a knife from the other side of the room, it’s just what I think about. 

When I was younger, I used to pretend that I was grabbing ahold of the magic in my heart and pulling it to my fingers, but I found out that wasn’t necessary and I could just do it by thinking. Maybe back then I _had_ to do that, grip ahold of the magic to use it, and I had just gotten better with practice. My _own_ practice, mind you. Faendel wasn’t very helpful when it came to teaching me. Besides, all he could do was some basic telekinesis. I’d need a different mage to teach me each element, considering every wizard I’d heard of only knew one type of magic. 

Why didn’t they just learn another type? That’d be mighty helpful, I’d assume. Imagine going into war and having an entire arsenal of spellcasters on your side, all of which who knew multiple types of magic. You’d be unstoppable. 

Lightning was my favourite spell to cast. Faendel didn’t even understand how I could possibly harness the power of lightning between my hands, but after so much practise, it became like second nature. I loved the feeling of the energy zapping through my veins, and it did some extreme damage when I tested it out on prisoners or animals out in the forest. Even recently, I’ve started taking risks and use it against targets, and it makes the rush of the kill even better. 

I also liked the sound the lightning made. Little clicks and snaps, I might even compare it to the sound a June bug makes during the summer. Just found it very calming in some strange way. Maybe it’s because I like listening to thunderstorms.

Fire magic was pretty self explanatory, it made my blood boil and sounded nice too. Ice had the opposite feeling, my blood froze and it felt like an out of body experience. Water felt quite similar to the ice, minus the tingle of the cold in my body. I don’t know what I’d call that trick I did last night with Rita when I was breaking into Wyvern’s room, where I forced her into unconsciousness. I just knew I could do it and I wasn’t the greatest at it since, again, I needed test subjects. The last notable thing I could do was telekinesis, which Faendel taught me and I had caught on right away. It only took a few years for me to surpass his knowledge, so he became pretty useless at this point. 

I stopped messing around with my magic after I realized how much blood was spilling onto my pants. The fabric was black, but the blood itself shone in a plethora of colours, mainly having a purple hue. I wandered over to my window and spat the blood out of my mouth and onto the roof of the castle far below. A kept a bucket of water in my room so I could wash off my hands and face from blood, and I tried my best to get it out of my pants. 

I sat in bed and rested my head for a minute, because the headache had come back, but not quite as strong as the one I had yesterday after healing Rose’s wound. I hated to say it, but Faendel was right - practise makes perfect - I found myself in a lot more pain from magic I didn’t practise as often. 

I grabbed the ceremonial sword and hid it under my cloak before going off and wandering the halls of the castle like normal, stopping to eat a few snacks, while I waited out the daylight. I was beginning to get excited and a bit anxious at this point. It never really occurred to me that I couldn’t 100% trust this Zicron man, but I was liking this already, living for myself. Doing what I wanted. 

I didn’t know choice would feel like such a drug. 

* * *

I sat on top of the castle’s stable, overlooking the city down the hill. The first moon had risen at this point, it’s grey light spilling down over the landscape. In the distance, I eyed down the church, glittering in the pale moonlight. I had been there once to kill a man who had been preaching about the queen being corrupt, but I just walked in the front door. I was excited to try and climb the building, it was like figuring out a puzzle kind of. Find some loose stones or metal beams to grab onto, make sure you don’t fall to your death. 

I hopped onto the castle wall from the roof of the stable and followed it along until I reached the main gate. I didn’t bother playing any tricks with the guards, instead just hopping down behind the bushes and trees silently. I wound my way through the lantern-lit streets at a brisk pace, avoiding any people taking a late night stroll. A man’s dog ran up to me and poked his nose at me, but I pushed it away, completely ignoring it. I was busy. 

The sword under my cloak bumped awkwardly against my right leg, and I nearly tripped on it a few times. I obviously wasn’t one to carry larger weapons around with me, but I was glad this one wasn’t even as heavy as my crossbow. Again, flimsy blade, hollow hilt. 

Back at the castle, apparently a bunch of guards and servants and such claimed that they saw someone head out towards the south last night, so Rita must’ve let them all know what my plan was. Wyvern went off at around sunset to go interrogate people around town, and he hadn’t returned before I had left. 

Rose knew that I had snuck out, and she warned me that if her mother noticed I had left, I’d probably be reprimanded. I told her I was just going out for a walk to cool my headache (which had actually resided hours ago, which wasn’t exactly normal,) so hopefully if the queen did find out, she wouldn’t be too pissed off. I wasn’t meant to leave the castle unless I was told to, the queen didn’t want my identity out there. 

I stood in front of the church for a moment when I arrived, staring up at the tower. I couldn’t see the second moon from where I stood, but I knew it must be rising by now, and you’d 100% be able to see it from up at the top of the church. I headed around to the side of the building and started scaling one of the pillars up to the main roof section, using parts of the stained glass windows to help me up. I felt a little bit bad for climbing on the windows since they were so beautiful, but I’m sure all of them were perfectly fine. 

From the main roof, which was awkward to stand on since it was slanted and almost a little bit of a dome shape, I adjusted my gauntlets and made sure Wyvern’s sword was secure before I silently made my ascent up the side of the tower. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, both from the exertion of climbing and the anticipation of seeing Zicron again. I was too far in now to change my mind - I was helping him now. 

When I was near the top of the tower, there was a ledge that reached out past my head a good 12 inches, so I had to figure out how to get up there. I had made jumps like this before, but they always scared me. If this fall didn’t kill me, it’d break both my legs, and what’s an assassin without legs? I made sure my feet were in some pretty deep divots in the stone bricks and I kept an extremely tight grip on a brick that was sticking out slightly as I reached up. I couldn’t reach the edge of the outcropping above, so I’d have to jump. 

Zicron made this climb every night?

I leaned my weight down into my footholds after loosening them a little bit before launching myself up and flailing wildly for the ledge. Now was not the time to die, that was for sure. My gloved fingers gripped onto the marble ledge and I pulled myself up before I could slip off. I sighed out the breath I had been holding and brushed myself off as I stood in what was apparently the bell tower. I walked around the bell in the centre of the balcony and over to the side that faced the streets. I could see the red moon from here, which begged the question - where was Zicron?

I paced around the tower, looking out at the city from each side. The little spots of light from lanterns in windows and along the streets reminded me of fire. 

I nearly fell backwards out of the tower when I came back to where I had first looked out. I was face to face with a bow and arrow, drawn all the way back and pointed directly at me. The moonlight revealed to me that it was none other than the man of the hour pointing the arrow at me. 

“What’s the verdict?” He asked, giving me a look over. I put my hands up to show I was unarmed and he lowered his bow slightly. I slowly pushed my cloak out of the way, showing him the sword at my belt. 

“It's a deal,” I agreed, smiling slightly. His face lit up as he lowered his bow, returning it to his back and dropping his arrow back in its quiver. I kept my hands up and took a step closer, letting him grab the sword off my hip himself. He peeked under my hood and gave me a smile, barely even looking at the sword. 

“Awesome,” he said happily, all of his caution falling away. He inspected the sword as he continued speaking. “I’ll admit, I was pretty sure you’d come and put a bolt in my skull.”

“I'm enjoying life quite a bit more, doing things I’m not supposed to,” I chuckled, leaning against the marble railing. Fuck, he was a good looking guy. His eyes were a bright green and somehow matched his chestnut coloured hair. I noticed a scar reaching from underneath his chin, up to his left cheek. “I figured one of your comrades would’ve told you I had taken it, plenty of them helped me cover it up.”

“I haven’t seen any of them since last night. I was actually kind of concerned, but clearly they’re all fine?” He asked, running his hand against the blade. I noticed his bloody bandage around his hand, and I started deciding on whether or not I should do something. He set the sword down, leaning it against the railing. 

“Oh yeah, I told the guard who hid the sword for me to tell Wyvern that she had seen a shady figure head south last night, should keep him off my trail. He _does_ think I did it though, so I might have to be careful,” I explained, pushing my hood down and shaking my hair out. I felt _actual_ heat in my face when I noticed Zicron looking at me like I didn’t actually exist. 

“I like your hair,” he mentioned, taking a step closer, “‘s a nice colour. So how’d you do it?”

“I - uh, I just walked into his room and grabbed it, he didn’t hide it or anything. He ended up waking up, but I managed to convince him that I came in through his already open window, that my window was locked,” I retold to him, and I paused when he tucked his 9 remaining fingers into my lowermost belt, where the sheath to the ceremonial sword was. He leaned in slightly and every nerve in my body lit up like lightning had struck me. 

“I’m gonna take this,” he whispered, unhooking the sheath from my belt and a offering charming smile. He leaned back and winked, making a clicking sound with his tongue. I huffed out a breath, and I’d never admit it aloud, I was a bit disappointed. I’ve never had the chance to talk to someone I had found attractive before. He tilted his head and suddenly looked a bit confused. “Is that normal?”

“What?” I asked, gathering my thoughts as he returned the sword to its sheath and clipped it to his own belt, underneath another shortsword. 

“Your eyes,” he continued, “like your pupils, they're white.”

“I think it’s common up north?” I proposed, but I wasn’t exactly sure, so I shrugged. “I really have no idea.”

“Hm. I’ve always wanted to travel to Winter’s Edge before,” he mentioned, “ever been there? Or were you raised there?”

“No, never been,” I explained casually, “was brought here maybe… a year after I was born, I’d guess, don’t remember anything.”

“Why’d they pick you? Wouldn’t it have been a lot easier if they just picked someone in the kingdom?” He asked as he sat in the railing, dangerously close to falling off. 

“Long story, maybe I’ll explain another day,” I said, “but I’m not entirely sure I trust you completely yet.”

“I don’t blame you,” he chuckled, “so what do you want me to do?”

“Well, first off,” I began, trying to think of something worthy of earning my trust, “your name, it’s Zicron, right?”

“Oh, yeah. I suppose I didn’t tell you that before,” he confirmed, “but you must have a better idea on what I should do.”

“I’m thinking, give me a second,” I laughed, “and forgive me if I’m wrong, but isn’t it zircon? The stone, I mean. I’m guessing you were raised an assassin.” _I could get him to steal something I guess. But I don’t know what I’d get him to steal._

“Oh, it was Zircon. I changed it when I ditched the covenant.” He shook his head to get his fluffy hair out of his face. 

“Why would you leave the covenant? I don’t know a lot about them, but I figured living with a bunch of assassins just like you would be like paradise.” _Assassin. I could get him to kill someone. My choice of who._ My _choice._

“Wanted to live for myself, just like you. Wanted to pick and choose who got to live and who got to die,” he explained, looking at his injured hand. “I also wanted to start this revolution, so I couldn’t exactly be confined by the covenant.”

“Here, give me your hand,” I suddenly offered, somewhat ignoring what he was saying. 

“Why? It’s fine, and you can’t do anything to help it anyways.”

“Says who?” I asked, pulling his hand closer to me and unwrapping his bandage despite his complaints. “I need some practise anyways,” I mentioned as I pulled my gauntlet off my left hand. He looked at me like I was crazy while I pressed my palm against his wound. 

“What’s wrong with your veins?” He questioned as I focused. 

“Shh,” I urged, and I heard him hiss out in pain and he tried to wrench his hand away. When he finally got it away from me, I felt a thick stream of blood pour down my chin. My ears rang, and my head stung, but I tried to ignore it, to not show the pain I was in. 

“Holy fuck! You’re a mage too?” He croaked out, looking at his hand. No more blood came spilling out of the area that was now covered with scar tissue that appeared to be years old. I spat the blood out of my mouth off the edge of the tower. He swallowed hard. “You alright?” He asked, concern edging his tone. I nodded and wiped my nose on my sleeve. It glittered a dark, nearly black green in the moonlight. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just don’t practice that often,” I excused. He caught my face in his not freshly healed hand and ran his thumb across my chin. He laughed slightly. 

“What kind of assassin does _healing_ magic?”

“I can do the other stuff too,” I defended, snapping my fingers and igniting a tiny little flame.

“What, what?” He blurted out, letting go of my face and grabbing my hand, looking closely at it. “That’s impossible though, isn’t it? As a kid, I tried to teach myself magic with some old books, but it never worked. All of them said you could only pick one element, and nobody has ever had more than one.”

“I’ve always been able to do it all,” I shrugged, extinguishing the flame. He looked at my now red veins through my skin. “I… I didn’t think it was unusual. Nobody ever told me it shouldn’t be possible.”

“I must say, I’m glad you’re on my side now,” he chuckled, running a finger against the back of my hand. “‘S pretty impressive.”

“Oh, thank you,” I said softly, losing myself to the feeling of his finger against my skin. 

“Now, did you figure out what you wanted me to do? I owe you now, I’ll do whatever you want,” he offered, keeping his hand on top of mine as I rested it against the cool marble railing. 

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” I smiled. I felt like I had all the power in the world. I wonder if the queen felt this way when she told me to go off and kill someone. “Alaric Jefferson. You know who that is?” His smile cracked across his face. 

“You madman. The royal guard’s strategist, right?” He questioned, and I nodded in confirmation. He lifted his hand and paced a circle around me.

“I can get you into the castle through the underground tunnels,” I proposed, watching his gaze skate up and down, “I’d love to help out with the dirty work, though.”

“Be my guest,” he spoke into my ear as he passed by me, making me shiver in a way I wasn’t exactly familiar with. “There’s tunnels under the castle?” He continued, moving to stand in front of me. He placed his hands on my waist, between the straps of my belt with the satchels and the one above it. 

“Right you are,” I spoke in a lower voice, hooking my hands around his shoulders, under his cloak. I hadn’t even noticed the fact that my headache had disappeared. I wouldn’t realize until I was in bed later that night, but I didn’t have the reaction I expected when I fixed up his hand. I nearly passed out with Rose’s cut on her knee, which wasn’t nearly as severe as this. Something was changing. 

“I’m surprised you don’t mind this,” he mentioned, squeezing my waist.

“Not at all,” I assured, a piece of my hair falling into my eyes as I looked down at him. 

“‘S been a _long_ time since I met someone like you,” he chuckled, reaching up to my gloved hand. The other gauntlet was tucked inside my cloak still, I hadn’t put it back on since I showed him my magic. 

“Oh,” I remembered, letting go of his shoulders so I could pull my other gauntlet off. I slid his ring off my finger and offered it to him. “I thought you’d want this back, wouldn’t see why you’d want to get rid of it.” He looked conflicted. 

“Keep it. Suits you better anyways,” he smiled slightly.

“If you don’t want it, why wouldn’t you just sell it?” I asked, sliding it back onto my finger. 

“I couldn’t let go of it,” he mentioned, but his smile widened, “but hey, if you keep it, then I know it’s safe.”

“If you ever want it back, just ask.” He nodded in acceptance, looking up at the sky. 

“Will do,” he agreed, “but you should probably get back to the castle. I don’t need you getting more suspicion on your back.”

“Right, meet me… meet me at the river in front of the north gate of the castle at noon tomorrow,” I told him, my excitement levels skyrocketing as I realized what we were doing. We were killing someone who had crossed me one too many times. We were killing someone based on _my_ orders. 

“Noon? Seems a bit sketchy to do during the day.”

“If I’m caught outside the night an important official disappears, I’ll be thrown in the pit,” I reasoned. 

“Okay, that makes sense. I’ll be there. Do me a favour and don’t call the guards on me,” he chuckled.

“I won’t, no worries,” I assured, tilting his chin up with my fingers and pressing a kiss to his lips. When I stepped back, he smiled a cocky smile. 

“Oh, I _like_ you, you know how to have fun,” he gushed, happily returning the kiss. “Alright, get the hell out of here,” he continued, slapping my ass as I walked over to the edge of the balcony facing the back of the building. I pulled on my gauntlets and hood again.

“Stay safe,” I told him as I climbed up on the balcony. I dropped down onto the ledge below that gave me so much trouble, finding it quite a bit easier to get down. When I reached the bottom, I looked up to see Zicron up at the top, looking down at me. I offered a little wave as I went to climb off the roof. When I hit the grass below the building, I headed straight home as fast as I could. My climb back into the castle was the same as it always was, and my window _was_ unlocked this time. What was different was who was inside, sitting at the end of my bed. 

“Oh, your majesty,” I uttered out as I climbed into my room. My spirits immediately dropped. Someone save me, she knew. She knew, didn’t she?

“Where were you?” She asked blandly, no emotion behind it. 

“Just went for a walk. Had a headache from practising my magic,” I lied, staying near the window. 

“How many times do I have to tell you, I can’t have you getting caught outside the castle walls,” she sighed, looking up at me, “and now really isn’t the time to do this. If you had run into Wyvern, I never would’ve heard the end of it. I’d be forced to reprimand you.” 

I let out a breath. She still didn’t suspect me. “Did he find who did it yet?” I asked, trying to act normal, “who took his sword?”

“No, but I doubt it was anyone dangerous,” she explained, “why would anyone just steal a sword?”

“I have no idea. Wyvern’s making a name for him out there though, being quite the dick to people he was interrogating,” I mentioned. 

“But really, Obsidian. Stay inside tomorrow. I mean _inside_ inside. Don’t go out into the courtyard.”

“I have to pick up my knives from the blacksmith,” I reasoned, and she pressed her lips together as she stood, flattening out her nightgown. 

“Fine. You can get your knives but that’s all.” With that, she strode out of the room, and I sighed. 

I could probably get away with telling her that I was just wandering the halls of the castle all day, hiding away, if she noticed I was gone tomorrow. I’d have to ask Zicron about it.

I got undressed and climbed into bed. We’d have to hide the strategist’s body, that was for sure. If he just disappeared, it wouldn’t be as suspicious. If the body was found, chaos would break out. The people in the castle would know it was an inside job. Zicron’s smart enough to outsmart me, so I’m sure he’ll have a good plan. He’s probably already come up with one. 

Zicron, that bastard. He knew what to do to get someone’s heart beating, that’s for sure. I still couldn’t be 100% sure I could trust him, but he could be some fun on a late night. Not to mention, now that I’ve gotten a look at him in better light, he’s really good looking. Rose would be ecstatic to hear that I’ve got myself someone I can fuck around with, but if I told her, she’d insist on meeting him and that couldn’t happen. Not yet, at least. 

I relaxed into my pillows and thought up my plans for tomorrow, eventually falling asleep for a few hours. 

_Zicron, Myonox._

I sat under the blazing sun, playing with the golden chain that held my cloak to my shoulders. I hid my identity under my heavy hood, and that made the heat even worse. I missed the winter months. The river flowing about five meters in front of me would be frozen though, so I’d miss that. 

“Excuse me, sir,” a voice cut into my thoughts, stepping in front of me. I looked up to be greeted by an unfamiliar face. 

“What do you want?” I asked defensively, not in the mood to be bothered. I just wanted Obsidian to show up already. The sun had been at its highest point for a while now, so I was starting to get a bit concerned. 

“I - you don’t recognize me?” He questioned, seeming almost insulted. I shook my head in response, trying to figure out why I would know him. “Oh. You must not be from Myonox then. I’m Royal Champion Wyvern. I need to ask you some questions.”

“Uh, okay.” _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck that mother fucker, he snitched on me. I was so stupid to trust him._ I swallowed hard and stood up, ready to run for the hills. 

“There has been a theft in the castle which happened two nights ago. Just want to know if you saw anything strange during the night,” he explained. _Why aren’t you apprehending me?_

“No sir, I only just arrived here yesterday,” I lied, trying to sound as innocent as possible. He pressed his lips together and nodded. 

“Okay, thank you for your time,” he said, sounding like he didn’t suspect a thing. I was glad I didn’t have the sword on me right now, it was buried in the basement of my house. I figured it might come in handy for framing someone. “If you see anything strange, tell a guard.” He walked away, all high and mighty like a champion would. 

I sighed loudly and tried to get rid of my jitters but shaking my head. I crouched down by the water and splashed some in my face. 

All day I had been nervous. I mean, I’ve never broken into the _castle_ before. Not to mention I was relying all my trust on the _queen’s_ royal assassin. But I owed it to him and his wizardry. I couldn’t lose this one, not only because he was hot as fuck and seemed to be into me, but having whatever fuckery that magic was on my side would be the last nail in the coffin for Myonox. 

If - well, not if - _when_ we kill Alaric, it’ll give us another advantage. Having no strategist will hopefully make it easier to fuck over the kingdom. Actually, it 100% would. I had a plan, I just had to convince Obsidian to follow through with it. I wanted to leave the body somewhere someone would find it, make it obvious it was a murder. _That_ would spice things up, make everyone in the castle turn against each other. 

A shadow crossed in front of me and I could see a dark reflection in the water. That pretty blond hair told me who it was.

“I thought you snitched on me,” I mentioned as I stood up. My nerves had calmed a bit by this point. 

“Why would I do that?” He asked, looking down at me from under his hood. 

“That Wyvern dick just came up and interrogated me about the fucking sword,” I chuckled, looking him up and down. I counted four buckles tying belts across his waist and chest and one extra belt wrapped around his thigh, holding a dagger against his black jeans. It’d be a pain in the ass to get all those belts off myself. 

“Oh, really? Maybe it’s a good thing I was a bit late, I’m not supposed to be outside the castle right now,” he explained, beckoning me to follow him down the cobblestone road. “So do you have a plan?”

“Eh… let’s hear yours first, you might not like mine very much,” I urged, resting my hand on the hilt of my sword. I had my knife with me as well, it was easier to stab someone in the back with it. He raised an eyebrow at me but went on anyway. 

“Okay, well, the tunnels can take us right to Alaric’s office. I told Reed to keep him in there for a while, or find someone who could distract him. We sneak in, take care of him, and drag him into the tunnels. We can dump the body in the river on the way out,” he said, “what was your plan?”

“Leave the body, make it look like a messy murder. Everyone in the castle will start distrusting everyone else and nobody’ll suspect you since you wouldn’t leave behind a mess,” I told him, and he thought about it for a second. I could keep giving him reasons as to why this was the better plan in my opinion, but I’d give him a chance to think at least. He made eye contact and nodded. 

“Let’s do it,” he agreed. He seemed confident in my plan, which made me feel even more confident myself. He led me into a graveyard, of all places. 

“The tunnels are pretty sketchy, I’d watch your step,” he explained, slipping behind a large statue. On the back there was a little handle that, when he pulled it, a hatch opened at the bottom. He climbed down onto his knees in front of me and yes, absolutely my mind went there. He slid down into the cavern below and I heard him land a few meters down. 

“Should I close it?” I asked as I crouched down and started climbing in. 

“I’ve got it, just get in,” he assured, and I landed in the dank tunnel with a thud. It was pitch dark down here, other than the light streaming in from the hatch. Obsidian pressed past me and hopped up to close the hatch, the darkness swallowing both of us. I felt a tickle on my arm and flailed to scratch it, praying to Azrael that it wasn’t a spider. Spiders were _not_ my thing. 

It sounded like a match lighting when his hand was engulfed in flames, lighting the tiny tunnel up. 

“Hot,” I chuckled, watching his veins light up. He tucked both of his gauntlets into a pocket in his cloak. “I must say though, I expected these tunnels to be like grand and made of stone, not tiny and dingy.” He grabbed my hand with his own free one and led me through the narrow tunnel. 

“The crypts are nice, they’re not too far down here,” he explained. I noticed that the flames from his hand didn’t produce any smoke. How was that even possible?

“Crypts?”

“Where all the previous royal assassins were buried,” he told me. The tunnels began opening up a little bit more, and eventually it was wide enough so I could walk beside my companion. I noticed he still had my old ring on, which I appreciated. 

My hand didn’t hurt even the tiniest bit anymore. It was completely healed over and everything. I still wasn’t used to not having the finger, but I’d get used to it. At least it was saving both mine and Obsidian’s skin for the time being. 

The tunnel opened into a large room, and the orange glow of the fire illuminated some of the names on the walls. They were tombs, that’s for sure. They all shared one thing in common: _Basalt, 701; Andesite, 812; Pyrite, 1045._ They were definitely all assassins. 

Assassins were very rarely given last names. In fact, none from the covenant had them. I had multiple fake last names I could use if I ever had a run in with the guards, of course. Didn’t want my name to reveal I was definitely an assassin. I looked up at Obsidian and noticed blood dripping down his nose. 

“Woah, hey, you okay?” I asked, reaching up with my free hand, using my sleeve to wipe his chin off. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he assured. His blood glittered that beautiful red colour that I had grown so familiar with in the past 25-ish years of my life. “Actually, I used to get wicked headaches from using my magic. And by used to, I mean like no more than a week ago. They’ve died down dramatically.”

“Oh, that’s good,” I said, my eyes getting caught on the ceiling. It was held up by stone columns, and the firelight and shadows danced together. 

“I believe we’re under the north tower right now. We have to cross a stream to get to the other side of the castle, that’s where Alaric should be,” he explained, pointing up at the roof with his hand still engulfed in flames. 

“Will we have to sneak through the halls?” I asked, a bit concerned that we might get caught. 

“Yeah, but don’t worry. There’s enough room between the roof and the support beams to hop across above. Nobody’ll notice a thing.”

I decided to take his word for it and we made our way through the damp halls, the crypt of assassins narrowing into another one of the claustrophobic tunnels. The stream he was talking about before wasn’t too hard to cross, considering we both had the balance of, well, highly trained assassins. One of the crumbled pillars in the water was pretty slippery, though, and I thought it would’ve been hilarious to watch Obsidian slip on it. He had let go of my hand on the way across and didn’t bother reconnecting them again. 

The tunnels opened up a few times and split off into different paths in some places, but Obsidian seemed to know exactly where we were going. When we reached the end of one hall, he told me to be quiet as he extinguished his flame and pushed a heavy trap door open slightly. He peeked out before pushing the hatch open further and crawling out, holding it up for me. 

Above was an empty stone hallway which was pretty dark, only lit by a single lantern. We must’ve been in the interior of the castle, considering the lack of windows. He slowly lowered the trap door again and the hatch went flush against the floor, basically disappearing. He jogged over to a pillar silently and began climbing it like he had done it a billion times before. I followed him up, a bit in a trance because of the castle itself. The ceilings were so high and the columns were intricately sculpted. I couldn’t believe this was _normal_ for Obsidian. He beckoned me onto a wooden beam that held the roof up and I swallowed as it creaked under me. 

He gestured for me to keep silent before hopping along the beams expertly. He didn’t make a single sound as he went about it. I wasn’t quite as nimble as him, but I kept as quiet as I could as I followed him along, a few beams behind him. He paused ahead of me and held a hand out, indicating for me to stop. A guard passed below us, and I held my breath. They didn’t even look up, and Obsidian just kept on moving along like nothing happened. He probably knew that the guards weren’t very alert or something. 

I followed along until we reached a wall, a door far below us. There was a guard outside of it, and it wasn’t one I recognized as a friend. Obsidian waved for me to join him on the edge of the beam, closer to the wall. I hopped on very carefully, making sure it didn’t creak or make any sounds. He leaned in to whisper in my ear, and I had to admit that the sound went straight to my dick. 

“He’s in that room. Or he should be, as long as nobody ratted in us,” he explained, nearly silent. “We’re both going to jump down there at the same time, I need you to grab him and cover his mouth, keep him quiet.” I nodded in understanding and he pointed at the ledge above the door. It was the only way we could get down there without breaking a bone. 

I mouthed out a ‘three, two, one,’ before taking a leap of faith and ramming into the wall below, spinning around as fast as I could and landing behind the guard, covering their mouth with my gloved hand. Obsidian landed beside me and just stared right into the guards soul. I would’ve asked what he was doing, but suddenly the guard went limp in my arms. They weren’t dead from what I could tell, considering they were still breathing.

I lowered the guard onto the floor, making sure his sword didn’t make any noise. Obsidian pushed the door open a tiny bit to see another guard talking with the man who must’ve been Alaric, sitting at his desk across the room. Obsidian must’ve known that his back would be turned from us, and he slowly snuck into the room, drawing his dagger from his belt. I noticed it had a black rock on the end. Maybe he had extra luck considering he was carrying both obsidian and zircon on him. The guard glanced behind him and I recognized it as Reed, thank the Ancient Ones. He acted like he hadn’t seen anything as I pulled my knife out of my boot. 

Obsidian pointed at me, then moved his blade in front of his own neck, indicating what I should do. I prowled forward, my heart racing in my ears. Obsidian raised his dagger up and aimed it at Alaric’s back, looking to me to make the first move. He wore the same smile I did, one that could only be described as power crazed. I reached forward nearly unconsciously and dug my blade into his neck, reveling in the sound of blood choked gargling. Obsidian plunged his dagger into the left side of Alaric’s back, making direct contact with his heart. He pulled it out and shook his head, wide eyed. He looked just as buzzed as I felt. He turned to Reed. 

“Go run off and be seen somewhere else as soon as possible,” he said quickly, grabbing my wrist and dragging me out the door. He tucked his bloody dagger back into his belt and I slid mine into my cloak, following him back up the pillar. My hands shook with excitement and power as we hurried across the beams, back the way we came. Not a single guard in sight, and Obsidian helped me open the trap door, telling me to jump down before him. 

Once we were both in and lost in the dark, he pushed past me and lit a fire up again. He was panting with exertion, as was I. 

“Follow me, quick. I’ve gotta be seen somewhere.” And with that, he took off down the tunnels, dragging me along behind him. It took a few minutes and a couple turns in this maze of darkness before he found another trap door. “Stay right here,” he spoke between breaths. He grabbed my hand and held it up before touching his flaming one to it. I nearly cried out, but there was no pain. No heat, either. “If it starts stinging, put it out. I don’t know how long the protection will last,” he uttered out before flinging himself out of the tunnel. 

I looked at my hand in awe, the golden flame illuminating the small corridor. I backed up from the hatch a little bit in case someone unwanted dropped down. When I reached up with my other hand and tried to touch the fire, I could feel the blazing heat. I have no idea what he did, but I was glad it wasn’t pitch dark. I sat there for what felt like hours. 

_Obsidian, Castle Myonox._

I wiped the blood off my dagger before rubbing my face, trying to calm down. Everything felt so _new_ , so different. I loved it. I loved ending that bastard's life. That’s what he gets for convincing the queen to toss me in the pit. 

Zicron was definitely pretty skilled when it came to murder. He wasn’t too bad at the sneaking around part, either, and he followed directions to a T. I took a breath before walking into the main hall, which was full of maids and guards and even the queen herself. She sat atop her throne at the end of the room. _I just killed one of her most trusted advisors on my own volition. I’m fucking amazing._ Zicron’s _fucking amazing._

I walked over to the main dining table and grabbed a few slices of thick bread, pocketing two and biting into the other one. Eating usually calmed me down from my buzz a little bit, but this wasn’t taking me down far enough. I noticed the queen beckoning me over, and I swallowed down a mouthful of bread before approaching. 

“Salutations, your majesty,” I greeted, hoping the shake in my voice wasn’t noticeable. 

“What have you been up to?” She asked, but I couldn’t tell if she knew something was off. 

“Just took a trip to the library, read for a bit,” I lied, gesturing towards the way I came from, which was roughly the direction of the royal library. She nodded in approval, and I couldn’t contain my smile. She didn’t suspect a fucking thing. I tucked a blond curl back under my hood. 

“Good, good.”

“Well, I think I’m going to go back and read some more, I was just looking for a bite to eat,” I mentioned, taking another bite of bread. I had learned a while ago that she didn’t mind me eating in front of her, which I found a tad odd but hey, I wasn’t complaining. 

“Enjoy yourself,” she wished as I walked back the way I came. Everything felt a tad surreal as I returned to the trapdoor a few halls away from the main hall. My high was starting to reside. I reached the trap door but had a second thought. I should probably be smart and be seen at the library too, in case someone thinks that the murder took place after I saw the queen. I zipped down to the library quickly and acted like I was browsing books for a few minutes before a maid came rushing in. 

“Oh, Prosperity! Someone do something! Sir Alaric is dead!” She cried, and the five or so people in the library gathered around her. I walked over and pushed past them. 

“Show me what happened,” I ordered, and she nodded. I looked over to the librarian. “You, go find the queen.” I followed the short little girl out of the room and to the scene of the murder. My pulse raised again as I realized the carnage Zicron and I had caused. There was blood splattered all over the wall in front of the slumped over body of Alaric, which must’ve come from the deep cut in his throat. The queen rushed in and I put on a worried and confused expression as I turned to her. 

“Somethings going on. First the sword and now this,” I mumbled to her, trying to gauge what she was feeling based on her nearly blank expression. Her dark eyebrows drew together slightly and she looked at the floor in sorrow. Alaric was her friend, but I didn’t feel pity for her. 

“Go find Rose, stay with her,” she ordered. I swallowed and nodded, leaving quickly before I started smiling like a madman. I didn’t go to Rose right away, I headed to the trapdoor for real this time and dropped in to see Zicron sitting on the ground, staring up at me. His hand was still ignited. _That’s nice to know._

“What happened?” He asked, standing up. I went to respond but found I couldn’t get any words out. Anticipation and excitement gripped at my throat, so all I could get my body to do was push the shorter man up against the (presumably,) cold stone wall and kiss him with the passion of a thousand fires. He reached up and I thought the fire in his hand out of existence, plunging us into darkness. His fingers locked themselves in my hair as he hummed out between us, returning the kiss messily. I didn’t expect him to act so touch starved, because I couldn’t physically believe that he was. 

“I can’t believe you left me down here to just _wait_ for you to come back and do this,” he growled, biting at my lips. 

“I had to go see the queen, make sure she knew where I was,” I told him between hot kisses, “told her I was going to the library after, figured I’d make sure I was all clear. A maid came in, said she found the body, so I went and looked at it again.”

“How was it?” He asked, dipping his head down and pulling my collar out of the way so he could lay some kisses along my skin. He could probably see my veins, and I was so glad he wasn’t freaked out by it. 

“So fucking beautiful,” I told him, sliding my hands under his cloak so I could run my nails over his back. “Then the queen, she told me to go find Rose, to watch her,” I continued. I realized what I was supposed to do and reluctantly pulled Zicron’s head up. I sighed out, “I’ve gotta go find her.”

“Oh, come on, you can’t leave me like this,” he whined, pressing his hips against mine. His very obviously hard dick pressed against my thigh. “It’ll take two minutes, please?”

He couldn’t expect me to say no, I understood the situation he was in and fuck I wanted to help him out anyways. “Fine,” I sighed out jokingly, dropping down to my knees. The rocky floor wasn’t the most comfortable, but I could live with it. I fumbled for his belt buckle in the dark and he let out a breathy laugh. 

“Holy fuck, it’s been a while,” he chuckled, reaching down and undoing his belt for me. “Wish I could see you down there.” 

I would’ve lent him some fire if I knew it wouldn’t end in disaster. Instead, I pulled his dick out of his jeans and got to work, wanting to meet that two minute expectation. From what I could feel, it was just the average dick, nothing special. He knocked his head against the wall behind him as I dragged my tongue along the bottom of his dick. It twitched under my touch.

“Your dick probably glows, huh?” He asked, humor lacing his tone. I wrapped my lips around the head of his cock to shut him up because I wasn’t just going to admit that. “Or does it like ‘turn on’ when you’re horny?” He continued. 

“Hmph Hmm,” I mumbled out, trying to tell him to shut up. He laughed a little bit, curling his fingers through my hair and pushing my head down slightly, though he was careful and I appreciated that. I did some magic with my tongue, swirling it around, sucking a little bit, and that actually seemed to keep him quiet for a bit. 

“You should be my murder fuck-buddy,” he mentioned, tightening his grip on my hair. I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was unravelling and wouldn’t take too much longer to finish. 

I mumbled out a “I can do that,” around his cock and he growled out a quiet moan. I nearly choked when I felt the tip of his dick graze the back of my throat, but I managed to keep quiet. I pinned his hips against the wall to top him from moving. He pulled me back by the hair, my lips popping off his dick. I hated to admit it, but I liked the way his fingers scratched at my scalp.

I let go of his hips and jacked him off at a steady pace, my spit slicking everything up. The cool metal of my new ring glided along his skin, earning me a quiet gasp. I could tell by his lack of words that he was getting close, so I moved myself over a bit and pointed his dick away as he shot his load on the stone floor. A low groan escaped his mouth and he squeezed my hair tight. He laughed a broken and wrecked laugh, taking a much needed breath. 

“You weren’t lying about two minutes,” I teased as I stood up. 

“Don’t start,” he threatened light heartedly as he fumbled to do his belt back up. I focused a bit and ignited my hand again, illuminating his face. He was bright red but his smile told me I wasn't as rusty as I thought I was. I leaned in and gave him one last kiss. 

“Alright, head that way, turn left at the first crossroads, then head straight the whole way until you reach the crypt of assassins, then climb out the way we came in,” I instructed, handing him the fire, “got that?”

“Yeah, I got it,” he assured, and I gave him a disbelieving look. “Left at the first crossroads, follow all the way out,” he repeated, and I nodded. 

“Right, I’ll come find you when I can, okay? I might wait until the heat dies down,” I told him, gesturing to the roof above us. 

“I’ll wait for you,” he promised, and I almost thought it was sincere. It was probably just my mouth he’d miss though, but that was fine. I nodded once more and climbed out of the tunnel. 

I jogged over to the central tower of the castle and made my way up it as fast as I could. I ran into Rose on the steps. 

“Hey! Where have you been?” She asked cheerfully. _Oh, y’know, just killing an official and then sucking my accomplice off in the underground tunnels._ I shook my head and gave her a dead expression, urging her back up the stairs. “Wait, what’s wrong?”

“Sit down,” I told her when we got into her room, and she did as I asked while I locked the door, pretending to be overly concerned. 

“Obsidian, tell me what’s going on,” she begged nervously, twisting her hands in her lap. 

“Someone just found Alaric dead in his office, someone murdered him,” I told her without sugar coating it. 

“What?!” She cried out, looking up at me like I was crazy. I nodded grimly to her, sitting down beside her. 

“Your mom told me to come find you, to stay with you,” I explained. That was probably one of the only truthful things I had said all day. “Somethings up. You were right about the sword, someone’s out here causing trouble.”

She started crying quietly, “Wyvern isn’t even here, is he? He’s out in the city still,” she whispered, leaning into me and hugging me tight. 

“It’ll be okay,” I cooed to her, “I’ll stay right here with you.”

There was a knock on the door. “Rose?” She asked. It was none other than the queen herself. I’ll give her credit, she _did_ care about her daughter. I jumped up and unlocked the door, letting her in. She rushed over to her sobbing daughter, trying to console her. I stood by the door, trying to seem useful, to look like I was protecting the both of them from danger. Little did they know, I was the most dangerous thing in this castle and I was the monster they were looking for. I couldn’t help the tiny smile that snuck onto my face for a fraction of a second. I reached up and quickly ran my finger under my nose subconsciously. 

After a few quiet minutes, the queen stood up and looked at me, standing at the door. “Stay here. I’m going to go find a guard I can trust, then I want you to come look at Alaric again. You know how to pull off a murder like that, maybe you can figure out how someone could’ve gotten in.” _Oh my lord this was turning out better than I expected, I could spin an even more elaborate lie._

I nodded in understanding and stepped back from the door, letting the queen pass me. I returned to Rose’s side. 

“Oh,” I began before the queen closed the door again, and she paused, “I think it’s best if you lock down the castle. Don’t let anyone in or out whatsoever.” She nodded and left quickly.  _ Spread the word to town. _

“Obsidian,” Rose whispered beside me, “Who was it?”

“I don’t know. I can’t even think of someone capable of pulling that off,” I lied, trying to not sound so full of myself. 

“I know you didn’t like Alaric, but you’ll kill them, right?” She asked, shifting to put her hand on my shoulder. 

“If someone finds them, I will,” I assured her. Right, time to make a suicide pact with Zicron.  _ As if. _

“What should I do?” She continued, trying to sound like the royalty she was. 

“Nothing. Just stay here,” I told her. I didn’t need her getting caught up in all of this. The door opened again and a guard walked in, a worried expression painting his face. 

“The queen wishes to see you at sir Alaric’s quarters,” he said, “I will stay here with her royal highness.” I didn’t recognize the guard as an ally, so maybe he wasn’t at all sure of what was going on. I hid my smile and gave Rose one last nod before heading off towards the masterpiece that was the murder scene. 

On the way across the castle, I passed many flustered guards and maids and such. Chaos. It was utter chaos. I loved it. The hallways around Alaric’s room were stuffed with guards but none of them bothered me as I pushed through to the queen. My pulse raced as I looked at the body, still slumped over at his desk. 

“Figure out what happened,” she ordered, sounding strong for the guards watching. I paced over to Alaric and looked him over, fighting against a smile. 

“Looks like whoever it was stabbed him in the back before slitting his throat,” I fabricated. It was just in case they did find someone they believed did it, that way they wouldn’t keep searching. I ran my hand against the wound in his back. “Probably didn’t stick around for too long after the fact.”

“How did they even get in?” The queen asked, scratching the back of her neck nervously. I glanced around the stone room. 

“Must’ve been through the door,” I pointed out, “which is why I’m thinking it’s an inside job. There’s no way anyone could get through the halls without being found unless they were, say, a guard,” I continued, staring back at the guards behind the queen. They all looked away nervously. 

“Well it would have to be someone with quite a bit of skill, clearly. Not everyone can murder someone,” the queen tried to reason, but I could tell she already knew that she was wrong. 

“Could’ve been a complete ameture. Just have to sneak in and stab him a few times,” I explained, walking closer so I could whisper to her. “Far less skill than someone like me, too much of a mess left behind.” She nodded slightly. I swallowed down my excitement. I bet she didn’t even think to suspect me. 

“Is that all you can tell from this?”

“Mhm,” I confirmed, taking another look at my victim. She turned to her brigade of guards. 

“Take him to the mortician,” she mentioned as she beckoned me to follow her. “I want the rest of you to gather all of the higher ranking officials in the main hall. You, go find Wyvern immediately.”

Once we were away from the group of guards who had scattered to find people like Rose, the leader of the royal guard, the librarian, the scribe, probably Faendel. 

“I don’t understand why anyone would do this,” she mumbled, looking up at me, “who would want to kill Alaric, he never wronged anyone.”

“Well… he did toss me in the pit once,” I told her, “maybe he did something sketchy to someone else.”

“Oh please, you’re not still mad about that, are you?” She asked, sounding so conflicted. I could tell she  _ wanted  _ to trust me, that she  _ had  _ to.

“Of course I’m still mad about it,” pointed out, a bit of anger hinting my tone. My buzz from seeing Alaric’s body was dying down again, “I would’ve  _ died _ down there.”

“I would’ve pulled you out if you were that close to death,” she assured, her brows drawing together, “look, I can’t argue with you right now. Just be quiet and listen to what everyone says, try to figure out who did…  _ this _ .” We entered into the main hall and she pointed towards one of the seats at the large round table in the centre. 

“I’ll voice my opinion during this, thank you very much,” I growled, pacing over to the seat at the table, next to where she and Rose normally sat. She sighed and shook her head slightly, not bothering to argue anymore. She went off, probably to go get Rose. 

I waited silently, watching the castles residents scramble around. I was surprised with the amount of people who seemed to know what happened, considering it had been… maybe a maximum of a half hour. 

A hand touched my shoulder. “This is all crazy, huh?” He asked. It was none other than the royal ambassador himself, Warren Adams. 

“What do you want?” I responded, lacing a slight growl in my throat. He sat himself down next to me, tossing his dark hair out of his eyes. 

“Did you see the mess?” He continued, seeming far too relaxed. 

“I did,” I confirmed simply, looking at my gloved hands in front of me. 

“I’m sure someone as cold as you wouldn’t be phased by something like that,” he guessed. He didn’t know what my profession was. He didn’t even know my name. 

“It wasn’t pretty.” Lie. It was very pretty, in my opinion. There’s nothing like a blade in the back. I pulled one of my hands off the table and ran it along the dagger in my belt. 

“Y’know what is pretty?” He asked with a suggestive tone. I sighed and rolled my eyes. 

“No. That was once,” I dismissed. It was years ago that anything had happened between us, and I wasn’t too interested in doing anything with anyone other than Zicron at this point in time. 

“Oh, come on,” he encouraged, reaching over and putting his hand on my thing. I so very badly wanted to pull my dagger off my belt and give him a nice threatening, but I knew it would be a bad idea to pull a knife on someone right after Alaric was murdered. 

“You had better cut it out before you regret it,” I growled, and he pulled his hand back, frowning slightly.

“Killjoy,” he mumbled, crossing his arms and leaning back into his chair.  _ You’re such an idiot, but good lord you gave me the greatest idea.  _

Wyvern came rushing into the throne room through the main door. He was accompanied by another guard, who I had seen at Alaric’s quarters with the queen. He looked around quickly before noticing me and beckoning me over. I stood up to join him, but when I passed Warren, I slapped him over the back of the head. 

“Hey!” He retaliated, but I was already gone. 

“What’s going on?” Wyvern asked as I reached him. For a moment he set our differences aside. The other guard drifted away. 

“What, he didn’t tell you?” I questioned, nodding towards the guard. 

“Well, I know the basics. Poor Alaric,” he said, looking down at his feet. “What actually happened though? Surely you’ve seen it.”

“Yeah, it was pretty gruesome. A knife in the back and then across the throat, blood everywhere,” I explained, keeping a stoic face. 

“Any ideas on who it was?”

“Well…” I trailed off, looking over at Warren, who was leaning back and lounging in his chair, looking bored out of his mind. “The ambassador seems far too calm for this. He came up to me and was laughing and smiling and such. Sounded nervous, my money’s on him at the moment.” That last bit was a joke but hey, it’ll be a smart idea to pin it on someone. 

“Didn’t he and Alaric hate each other? Something about Warren fucking up something down in Fort Narrows?” He asked as the leader of the royal guard marched into the room. He took a seat at the table. 

“I didn’t even think of that,” I mentioned, and that was the truth. Everything was working out so well. The table in the centre of the room slowly started to fill up with the more important people of the castle, along with ones who were generally trusted by the queen. “What’s the verdict on the sword?”

“Gone. I doubt I’ll ever see it again,” he sighed, his voice trembling a bit. 

“You can’t give up like that, I bet whoever stole it also killed Alaric,” I suggested. It was true, I did both. Rose and her mother entered the throne room and took a seat at the head of the table, so Wyvern and I joined them. Warren looked at me longingly as I sat down between him and Rose. I reached over to the part of the table in front of the queen and tapped slightly, getting her attention. I stood up and leaned over the table to whisper to her. 

“Warren’s acting sketchy, seems a bit happy go lucky and nervous,” I told her. She nodded and glanced at him before turning her gaze back to me. 

“Take your hood down, it’ll make you look less intimidating,” she ordered, and I did as she said while I sat down. I kept my gaze trained on the queen and as far from Warren as I could. The queen cleared her throat and stood up. 

“I’m sure you all know why we’re here,” she announced, grabbing the half-full table’s attention. “Sir Alaric has been murdered. We don’t know who did it. Why don’t you explain what you saw?” She continued, looking to me, dodging my name. 

“Well,” I started, a bit surprised at being addressed. “Two stab wounds, definitely a knife of sorts. Seems to be done by someone who had no clue what they were doing, but there was definitely some malice behind it. Whoever it was had a vendetta against Alaric.”

“Well where were you when it happened?” The leader of the guard, Brian Cor, asked, sounding a bit condescending like he always did. He was another person I wouldn’t mind plunging a dagger into his back. 

“The library, where were you?” I shot back in a level tone. 

“The barracks. Did anyone see you in the library?” He interrogated, leaning over the table on the other side of the room from me. 

“I did, he wasn’t anywhere near Sir Alaric’s quarters,” the librarian piped up, proving my completely fabricated alibi. Maybe she worked with Zicron too? Probably not. 

“Your majesty, if I may?” Wyvern asked, stopping Brian from going on with his suspicions of me. The queen nodded in acceptance. “My comrade here was saying that it might be connected to whoever stole my sword,” he continued, looking to me. 

“I figured two very out of place crimes committed days apart would be done by the same person,” I explained, shooting a glance towards Warren. “What do you think?” His gaze broke away from me and he seemed a bit startled. 

“Uh, well, I think this meeting is pointless,” he said, scratching his neck, “I think everyone should start searching around for the killer.”

“Where were you when it happened?” The queen interrupted. Rose twisted her hands in her lap, keeping silent but listening in closely. 

“Me? I was in my bedroom,” he spoke quickly.

“You seem nervous,” I mentioned, “hiding something?”

“If you’re insinuating that I did it, you’re very wrong,” he defended, losing that cocky look he always had stuck to his face. “Who says it wasn’t you? You’re awfully sketchy, sometimes I see you in two places at once, I swear.”

“I agree with Warren, you’ve always acted very shady,” Brian piped up. I kept calm and leaned back in my seat. I knew the queen wouldn’t change her mind regarding my innocence. 

“But he was in the library, he couldn’t physically be anywhere else,” the librarian repeated, sounding a bit worried. 

“His alibi is solid, he came a told me he was going to the library as well. He is innocent,” the queen assured, and I took a quiet breath of relief, “I would like to look a little deeper into Warren, however.”

“Me? I didn’t do anything!” He argued, punching the tabletop. The queen gave him a venomous glare and he looked down. “Apologies, your majesty.”

“Did anyone see him during the last hour?” Wyvern stepped in, looking around the table. Dead silence.  _ Perfect.  _

“That’s not evidence though,” I mentioned. It would be better to leave the castle in fear for a while, not have an immediate arrest. Brian climbed out of his chair and urged Warren to get up.

“Well let’s see if he’s got a knife then,” he said as he walked around the table. 

“This is ridiculous, nobody else has alibis, other than this shady fuck,” he complained, gesturing wildly to me. 

“I was in the streets,” Wyvern pointed out. 

“I was in the library, as why the scribe,” the librarian claimed. The rest of the table started arguing their innocence and it got a bit rough from some people, Brian pulling Warren up but the back of the collar and checking his pockets for weapons. Of course they were empty, even if he had committed the crime, he wouldn’t carry the weapon with him. I at least was known to always have this specific dagger on me. Rose’s knee bounced under the table nervously. 

“Alright! Alright! Everyone be quiet,” Wyvern commanded, and everyone fell silent and returned to their seats. The queen stood and flattened her dress down her legs. 

“You three,” she began, looking at me, Rose, and Wyvern, “come with me. We need to discuss this.”

“Yes, your majesty,” Wyvern recited like a robot, and Rose stood silently. I followed the group and a small smile crossed my lips. When we got into the hallway outside the main throne room, she turned to Wyvern. “Go find Faendel and send him here. Return to the main hall and make sure nobody does anything suspicious,” she continued. He nodded and ran off to follow his orders. 

“What’s wrong?” Rose asked her mother. 

“I don’t know what to do,” she mumbled, looking to me, “how’s your magic been coming along?” She questioned suddenly. 

“Uh, it’s the same as always,” I lied, “why?”

“I feel like it might be a good idea to have someone like you around at the moment. Can you show me what you can do?” She urged.  _ Hmm, how about no? _

“Of course,” I said, raising my hand and acting like I was concentrating extremely intensely. I wasn’t actually thinking about much as I did it, and definitely not any magic. I imagined that my nose started to bleed, and it surprised me a bit when it actually started to happen. Hey, it would make it more believable. I coughed loudly and dropped my head before completely collapsing in an awkward mass on the floor. 

“Oh, Prosperity do something, are you alright?” The queen asked, sounding panicked. This was definitely unusual. I can’t remember the last time she actually cared about an injury I had gotten. 

“Obsidian? Hey, get up,” I heard Rose plead as she nudged me. “No no no, now’s not the time.” I played dead while they tried to pull me up, and I honestly found it quite funny. I wasn’t  _ that  _ heavy - I couldn’t be if I wanted to be able to pull myself up a tower. 

“Oh my, what happened here?” Faendel asked as he jogged over. He held me under the arms and lifted me up, groaning loudly, “I told him not to do anything dumb with his magic!”

“You clearly haven’t been teaching him well,” the queen mumbled as Faendel dragged me along, away from the throne room and towards the central tower. Yes, please take me away from this mess so I don’t accidentally incriminate myself. 

“I’ve been  _ trying _ ,” Faendel insisted, “but he won’t listen.”  _ That’s a lie, it’s your lessons that aren’t worth a damn.  _

“Shh, let’s just get him up to his room,” Rose interrupted, “if someone sees him like this, they’ll think someone did it to him.” And with that the three feel silent, dragging me along the cobblestones awkwardly.  _ Come on, just pick me up. Stop dragging my cloak across the floor.  _

I was dragged the whole way to the tower, but Faendel finally picked me up when we reached the stairs, his legs trembling under us. 

“Should we send him to a doctor?” The queen asked, but Faendel thankfully cut in. 

“He’ll be alright, just needs some rest,” he claimed, “he hasn’t been too hurt yet.”

“You better not hurt him,” Rose threatened. After a few minutes of a weak man carrying me up the stairs, we got into my room and he sat me down on my bed. I peeked my eyes open to see him grabbing the bucket of water in the corner of the room. He brought it over and washed the blood off my nose and chin.

“I need to return to the main hall,” the queen announced, “Rose, come along with me.”

“Okay, mother,” she agreed, patting my head gently before following her out. 

“Oh, and Faendel? Stay here, make sure nobody tries to do anything sketchy to him,” the queen ordered. Then there was silence. Faendel returned the bucket to the floor and sat on the edge of my bed. I wished I could adjust my position, but staying still was one of my skills. I just waited it out, itching with anticipation.

Nothing could go wrong now, right?


	3. The Pit

_ Obsidian, Castle Myonox. _

I woke up to the queen entering my room. I had fallen asleep while waiting Faendel out, hoping he’d leave, but he didn’t. 

“Get up,” she ordered, and I pulled myself up, acting like I had a wicked headache. 

“What happened?” I groaned, 

“You tried to show me your magic, couldn’t even do it. Faendel clearly isn’t a very good teacher,” she explained, a bit of bite to her tone. 

“Did you find out who it was?” I asked, referring to the murderer. She shook her head. 

“Everyone’s divided. Half of them think it was a Warren, half think it was you.”

“What?” I blurted out, feeling the first hint of worry I had felt all day, “but I didn’t! I wasn’t even there, you know that!”

“Yes, I know it couldn’t’ have been you,” she assured, pacing around the room. I sighed out a breath. “However,” she continued ominously, “I think it’s best if I punish you both just to get everyone off my back for giving you immunity.”

“Wait, hold on,” I started, my heart in my throat, “you can’t be serious!”

“A week in the pit will be survivable for you, but Warren should crumble and admit his crimes,” she reasoned calmly. I choked out a cry. 

“You can’t put me in the pit, you  _ can’t, _ ” I begged, climbing out of bed. What made it even worse was that she  _ thought _ I was innocent.

“It’s politics, Obsidian. This will make it easier to find who did it.” 

“Please,” I whispered out, my voice broken. The day had been so fantastic, so perfect so far, and now  _ this.  _ I reached under my cloak and clutched my dagger tight.

“I’ll let you keep your weapons, give you an advantage out there,” she granted, as if that made it better. 

“I can’t,” I uttered out.

“You’re a killer, the pit is just your everyday life.”

“Half of them are children,” I pointed out angrily, backing towards my window. I shot Faendel a pleading look, but he kept his gaze on the ground, “and your guards’ll keep arrows pointed at my skull until I kill them.”

“It’s called entertainment,” she mentioned, walking towards the door. “Guards!” She called, and a group of them entered the room. 

“You’re kidding,” I mumbled, reaching for my window. Locked and latched, and not by me. The guards bound my hands behind my back and forced me to follow the queen. I gave up fighting back when I realized who one of the guards was. “Reed?” I whispered, and he nodded like I didn’t know it was actually him. 

“Zicron already knows by now,” he responded, nearly silent. 

“He better send someone to bust me out,” I mentioned, “he  _ has _ to.”

“Knowing him, he’ll come himself,” he guessed.

“What, no!” I said quietly, but he shrugged. 

“I don’t have any say in it.”

The guards pushed me into the throne room and everyone turned to look. Rose gasped and stood up at the table. 

“Mom no! He didn’t do anything!” She cried, but the queen ignored her completely. 

“Yes he did!” Brian urged. I swallowed my fears down as I was pushed next to the also-bound Warren, standing in front of the queen’s throne. She climbed up the stairs and sat herself down all formally. 

“Sir Warren and Lord Obsidian,” she began, and I choked.  _ What are you thinking? That’s such a stupid idea, someone might recognize that as an assassin name and you’ll get in even more shit. Also, lord? Never once in my life have I been addressed as anything other than ‘boy,’ or ‘assassin,’ or ‘sir’.  _ “I sentence you both to a week in the pit. I don’t believe 100% that either of you are behind this murder, but if it was one of you, I’m sure you’ll admit it.”

There were a few gasps behind me and I saw Rose stomp out of the room through my peripheral. I felt a tear fall down my cheek but I wasn’t ready to full blown cry. I’d be fine. Zicron would come get me. He had to. 

Reed and the other guards led me and Warren out of the castle, into the cool night’s air. The walk to the pit wasn’t a very long one, it was in the centre of town square. It was an arena that was made for entertainment, throwing thieves and treasonists of any age into it so they could fight to the death. If you didn’t fight, you got shot through the skull with an arrow, dying anyways. The main catch to the arena was that underneath it, there was a pitch dark maze full of the pests and wastes from hundreds of years. In the center of this room, you could find the bare bones - bread, water - but on the very edges, you could find weapons and armour. Having my daggers and crossbow and such with me would give me a reason to only head towards the middle, but the thing about the maze was that you couldn’t tell which way you were going. The arena above stayed empty during the night, and they'd release all the prisoners at noon hour to fight for their lives. 

The reward for fighting was typically a reduced sentence. If you were never seen up at the top, the guards would usually forget about you. If you were proven to be a great fighter, you might get out months before your sentence actually concluded. 

The last time I was here, I was fighting for my life for  _ 4 months _ . Treason, Alaric had claimed. Treason committed by a 17 year old who was told to go off to Fort Narrows and kill their king. 

I had failed. That wasn’t treason. I had tried to kill him, mark my words, but he had so many guards I could barely get into the fortress. I’d be able to do it now. 

Warren fought back as we were dragged into the sandy arena and towards one of the huge metal doors surrounding the walls. The guards brought us down into one of the tunnels and the smell was immediately noticeable. So awful, even worse than before. I tried to talk to Reed, to ask him to break me out, but it was too late. They pushed us down into the labyrinth and I landed hard in the wet mud. Or I hoped it was mud. 

“You bastards! I’m innocent! I’ll have your heads for this!” Warren cried as we were left in the blackness. I pushed myself up and looked towards where Warren was. 

“I suggest you admit to it sooner rather than later. It’ll probably get you a reduced sentence,” I mentioned, reaching out to find a wall. I held my dagger in my other hand. 

“I really didn’t do it,” he professed. I knew he was telling the truth but I couldn’t let him know that. “By Prosperity it’s disgusting down here.”

“Get used to it,” I mumbled, following the wall along. It was wet and slimy with dew. 

“So, Obsidian, right? That’s what the queen called you? Can I follow you around? Maybe we team up?” He suggested, trying to follow me. 

“Hell no,” I responded immediately. 

“Well at least give me one of your knives or something!” He begged, grabbing into my crossbow from behind. That was all it took. I whipped around and stabbed him in the side of the ribs, a wound that wouldn’t kill him if he made an effort to keep it clean and patch it up. He cried out and fell to the ground again, and I heard a rat squeak past. 

“You bastard,” he croaked out, “you killed Alaric, didn’t you?” 

“No,” I continued my lie, despite my next words, “but I am the queen’s personal assassin,” I revealed before turning and shuffling away slowly. This definitely didn’t give me the same buzz as killing someone who mattered. I just really didn’t like Warren, never have. Been a dick ever since I told him we couldn’t keep fucking around with each other. I knew that if I was getting out of here, it was either dead, or with Zicron. If I escaped, I couldn’t come back to the castle.  _ That  _ was illegal. Not to mention, they’d definitely assume it was me who killed Alaric and stole Wyvern’s sword. 

I pulled my boot out of the sticky mud and trudged forward, searching for a place to find some food. Once I was far enough away from Warren and I couldn’t hear anyone else nearby, I raised my hand and ignited a bright flame. I immediately regretted it. It would help me in the long run, but the spiderwebs and unknown masses on the floor were not pretty to look at. I found a skeleton around the next turn, a weird pale mess underneath that must’ve been rotting flesh. I dealt with dead people all the time, but rotting bodies was not my forte. And not to mention, it smelled _ horrific _ . 

I hurried past the body as fast as I could and kept quiet so I could hear if anyone was around. My best bets were that there were around 50 or so people under here, maybe more. Some have maybe been here less than a week and others maybe years, if they were lucky. I had heard of certain ‘champions of the pit’ before, but I never went to see them. The pit was not something I’d wish on anyone. At least I had my weapons. 

I took my time going through the halls, taking right turns instead of left so I could hopefully stay closer to the center. That all depended on whether or not I was actually on the left side, but I didn’t know. When I heard someone stumbling along and groaning, I dropped my flame and clutched my dagger tighter. 

“Hello?” I called out, silently hoping nobody responded. 

“Oh god please don’t kill me, not yet,” she croaked out, and I walked towards her voice. 

“Are you hurt?” I questioned, and I bumped into her. She helped loudly when I grabbed what I think was her arm, holding her still. “Hey, hey, I won’t hurt you.”

“I’m so thirsty,” she sobbed, leaning her weight against me. I held her up off the muddy floor. I sheathed my dagger and raised my hand to where I figured her face was. 

“Here, I have water,” I claimed. It wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t sure on whether or not she could drink it. I summoned some water in my palm, and at that moment I realized I still had my gauntlets on. I had never been able to cast my magic with them on before. Her lips found my hand and she drank like she hadn’t in months. She kept drinking for probably a minute straight, taking large gulps of air. When she finally pulled back, she coughed loudly. 

“Thank you, thank you so much?” She wheezed out, “where did you find so much?”

“In the center of the labyrinth,” I lied, “I’m trying to get back there, stock up on food.”

“I’m looking for it too,” she said, pushing herself back from me slightly, “mind if you stick around with me? You sound strong.” I thought for a long moment. There would be no downfalls for me if I let her tag along, if anything, I’d have someone I could throw in front of me in a battle. 

“Sure, I don’t see why not,” I accepted, “but pull anything stupid and your blood will be on the walls.”

“I won’t,” she assured simply, following me through the tunnels, “I’m Sunstone, but the way. Sunny, if you want.”

“Sunstone?” I repeated.  _ Assassin? _ “I’m Obsidian.”

“Oh? You wouldn’t happen to be an assassin, would you?” She asked carefully, tripping slightly behind me. 

“I am, actually. I take it you are?” I responded, pulling my dagger out again, just in case. 

“Yeah, straight from the covenant,” she confirmed, “reason why I’m in here, I got caught killing a nobleman. You?”

“The queen tossed me in here because everyone thought either me or the royal ambassador killed the strategist,” I explained quickly.

“Wow, okay,” she chuckled weakly, “was it you?”

“Yep,” I smiled to myself, “but it doesn’t matter, I’m making a run for it anyways. I have a… friend who’s going to come get me out. 

“Nobody’s ever broken out of the arena before,” she mentioned, “who’s your friend?” I thought for a moment.  _ Zicron was in the covenant, wasn’t he? _

“You might know him, he used to call himself Zircon. Worked for the covenant.”

“Zircon? The bastard’s still alive?” She blurted out, “you’re talking like shorter, copper hair, green eyes Zircon, right?”

“That’s the one,” I said, “but he said that everyone from the covenant completely refuses to remember he exists?”

“Well, we’re supposed to, but I don’t see anyone from the covenant here. Well, I’m assuming you’re not from them, I’ve never heard of you before.”

“I’m not from the covenant, no,” I confirmed. 

“How is he? We used to be buddies,” she mentioned as I followed the wall along in the pitch dark. 

“I actually don’t really know how he is, I haven’t known him very long,” I explained.

“Oh? Well… I wouldn’t keep your hopes up that he’ll come break you out,” she said, sounding almost...  _ sad _ . “He’s not one to keep promises.”

“He’ll come get me,” I assured her. He’d be an idiot to get rid of me. 

“Whatever you say,” she chuckled, and I knocked into a sharp table. 

“Ouch,” I hissed as the metal punched one of my belt buckles into my stomach. I felt around and knocked something off onto the floor. 

“What is it?” She asked before bumping into me. 

“Table of some sorts,” I guessed, and I heard footsteps come towards us from the other direction. “Fuck,” I mumbled, grabbing Sunny’s arm and pulling her back. Whoever came running at us passed us and slipped in the mud, crying out in anger. 

“Oh good lord you idiot,” Sunny mentioned, referring to the man flailing on the ground. I put my dagger between my teeth and pulled my crossbow off my back, pointing the already loaded weapon towards the person on the floor. 

“You have a loaded crossbow pointed at your skull, I suggest you stop moving,” I threatened, and it suddenly fell silent. 

“The food, you can’t take the food,” he pleaded, his voice  _ destroyed.  _

“Oh, he’s crazy,” Sunny pointed out, “put him out of his misery.”

“No! No, no, no, I’m not crazy! Just so,  _ so  _ hungry!” The unknown man cried, trying to stay still on the ground. I reached over to the table and grabbed for whatever there might be there. I think I found a piece of bread and I tossed it to him. 

“Alright, get lost,” I urged, returning my crossbow to my harness. The man fumbled around before trying to run off in the sticky mud.

“Some assassin you are,” Sunny mumbled, reached around on the table to find something to eat. She started shoving things into her pockets, and I filled the inside of my cloak with what all seemed to be bread. I’d check to make sure it was fine to eat later when I got away from Sunny. 

“Might as well give him a chance,” I reasoned simply.

“Where’d you get a crossbow? I’ve been along the edges of the maze, I only found swords and armor.” I began walking back the way we came, trying to recall the turns I took. Sunny followed me along.

“I’ve had it for years,” I explained, before I realized that I should’ve had everything taken off of me when I was tossed down here. 

“What? How did you get to keep your stuff?” She asked, sounding a bit jealous. 

“I’m on the queen’s good side,” I mentioned, walking faster in an attempt to lose her. 

“Wow okay,” she uttered out, “where are you headed off to now then? You’ve got food and weapons.”

“Back to one of the gates, obviously.”

“What, you’re going up to fight? It’s a lie, y’know? They don’t actually reduce your sentence,” she explained to me. 

“Oh, I don’t plan on fighting,” I said, “I’m going to see if I can find Zicron,” I continued, using his preferred name. 

“Zicron? What, he changed his name, too?” She asked, sounding kind of betrayed. 

“Can you blame him? You guys refused to remember that he existed.”

“He  _ left us.  _ He didn’t even have a real reason. ‘Oh, I’m going off to start a revolution,’ how’s that going for him now?” She mocked, and I felt a little bit of anger surface in my heart. 

“Well he has the queen’s royal assassin and half of the castle working for him, so I’d say he’s got some ground under him,” I explained, and she slipped in the mud. 

“The queen’s  _ what?  _ The queen has a royal assassin? Holy shit,” she uttered out, and I sighed in a bit of annoyance. I just wanted to be alone. I spun and pressed my knife against her chest lightly. 

“Turn around and go find someone else to bother,” I threatened, regretting helping her out in the first place. 

“Hey! I thought we were teaming up?” She argued, and I pressed my dagger down harder. 

“I gave you water and brought you to food, that’s more than enough help.” I pointed out, pulling my knife away and turning to keep walking, following the wall along. She sighed out in anger but was smart enough not to follow me. I’d probably run into her again, knowing my luck. 

I wandered the hellscape that was the pit, lighting up the halls as I went. I pulled some of the bread out of my pockets and looked it over quickly before deeming it acceptable and eating a little bit of it. Didn’t taste the greatest, but it was food. I summoned some water in the air to take a drink of, and found it tasted a bit like iron. It wasn’t revolting thankfully.

I ran into a few more people scavenging the labyrinth, and I did my best to direct them towards the middle of the maze. One of them offered me a thank you and good luck, while the other didn’t say anything as they ran off. Thankfully neither wanted to tag along for too long. The one thing that concerned me was that the kinder of the two sounded  _ very  _ young, but I didn’t have time to ask him about his age before he was gone. Probably just stole something, and that somehow warrants this hell. 

There was a small group of people gathered at one of the gates to the arena. It must’ve been a different gate than I entered through, because none of them had seen Warren around. 

“Please sit, stay a while,” one of them offered kindly. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to sit, but I found that it was just dusty cobblestone here, no mud. There were six of us here.

“The majority of people down here agree that we save the fighting for the arena,” one of them, a younger woman, explained, “let us all save up energy, y’know?”

“Smart,” I mentioned, not entirely used to talking to groups of people. This was a much different setting than the last time I was here.

“Would you like a bite to eat?” A man asked, but I obviously declined. I wasn’t going to take these people’s supplies when I had my own. 

“So what got you down here?” One of them asked. 

“Accused of murder, you?” I responded, enunciating ‘accused’ so they thought that I hadn’t done anything too severe. I was glad they couldn’t see me in the dark. Based on the past few hours or so, I had figured out pretty fast that I looked like a murderer. Well, they weren’t wrong, I couldn’t con them for that. 

“I stole some jewelry off of a richer woman, tried to sell it. That didn’t go too well,” a woman who sounded quite a bit older than me explained. Most of them were down here because of theft, one of them for assaulting a guard, and the last one for preaching about how the queen was trying to kill everyone. After a bit of conversation and me staying quiet, I think they sort of forgot about me. They weren’t talking about anything interesting - most of them had been down here for long enough to have shared all their stories with the others. I played with my dagger in the dark, tossing it up and catching it again. Probably a very bad idea for most, but I had practised the little trick enough to do it with my eyes closed. 

I could see the moonlight peeking through the edges of the large metal door across from me. If Zicron didn’t show up tomorrow and try to break me out, I’d figure out how to get this door open myself. Then, I’d hunt his ass down and ask him why he left me for dead after I broke him into the castle, risking everything. He seemed like a standup guy to me, but Sunstone had been sure that he was a traitor and that he seemed to run from all his problems. If he was smart, he’d come get me out, even if I couldn’t get into the castle anymore. 

I didn’t sleep all night, I didn’t trust any of these people enough for that, or that someone else might come strolling along looking to spill some blood. I wasn’t tired anyways.

* * *

I stared at the door for hours and hours, the light peeking out the bottom slowly turning from white to pale yellow. The people around me slowly started waking up, but I stayed silent. They thought I had run off, but they didn’t say anything of much interest. I just needed that door open. I wanted out of this hellhole. Hours and hours after the sun had come up, I started to be able to hear people outside. People who were even more sadistic than me. I didn’t like watching people fight to the death, I just did the deed and got out of there. I didn’t typically even leave a body. What I’m getting at is that the citizens of Myonox were not good people. 

When the noise outside picked up, the door finally opened. One of the people from the group mentioned how they didn’t know I was even here, but the rest of them rushed out into the arena like it was their job. I pulled myself up and stretched a bit, grabbing my crossbow. Over the night I realized one problem - I wasn’t by any means a warrior, and close combat was not my thing. I pulled my hood up to shield my face from the sun, hopefully making it easier for me to see.

I held my crossbow up as I paced into the sandy arena, chewing on the inside of my cheek as my eyes adjusted to the light. It wasn’t too sunny, dark clouds drifting across the sky. As soon as I could see the modest crowd of people up in the stands above the tall concrete walls and metal doors, I spun in a circle, looking for one specific face. 

If that asshole left me here to die, I’d break out of here myself. I’ve got magic under my belt after all. What I’d do to Zicron was up in the air - if he could convince me that he had a reason behind it, I might understand. 

All of those thoughts flew out of my head as my gaze landed on the flash bastard. He leaned over the railing and caught my gaze. ‘ _ Thank Azrael,’ _ I mouthed to him, and he winked and gave me that stupid smile before turning a bit more serious. He pointed at the now closed gate behind me. 

_ ‘That door, middle of the night. I’ll come get you.’  _ Or something like that. I nodded paced around the arena, keeping eye contact with him.  _ ‘Need a sword?’  _ He pushed his cloak back and flashed his shortsword to me. I looked back and my crossbow, then over at some of the other people in the arena, already fighting. I couldn’t recognize any of them as people I had seen underground, but it didn’t matter. I looked up to Zicron and nodded. 

_ ‘Don’t lose it,’  _ he warned, beckoning me over to the wall. I jogged over and he dropped it down, landing in the sand. I picked it up and tested its weight, but when I looked up again to thank him, he was already gone. I felt a little bit… lonely without him around, but I spun around and got ready to protect myself anyways. 

His sword was far heavier than my dagger, obviously, but it wasn’t awful. It would offer me a means to end a life if I had to. I wanted to drop back into the maze below and wait it out, but the door was closed and blocked by two guards in extremely excessive, heavy armor. A bolt wouldn’t even pierce it. I waited near the wall, crossbow in one hand and sword in the other, waiting to be provoked. 

When an older woman who looked completely out of her mind came running straight for me with a huge battle axe, I didn’t hesitate to pop a bolt in her skull, causing her to immediately bite the dust. The sadistic crowd cheered, and I suddenly realized I was being watched. I tried to ignore the eyes while I awkwardly held Zicron’s sword in my mouth by the handle, quickly loading my crossbow again. I walked around the outskirts of the arena, waiting for people to come to me. I wasn’t going to kill anyone I didn’t have to. My bolts were used up much faster than I would’ve liked, and eventually I reached back to grab another bolt and found my quiver empty.  _ Great, I’ll have to buy more myself, considering I’m not going to be allowed back in the castle.  _ It was a good thing Zicron was breaking me out since I’d have no more bolts for the rest of the week. 

I took a chance and ran up to one of my victims, ripping my bolt out, but it snapped. I sighed angrily and went over to another sorry sight, pulling the bolt out as gently as I could. The end was damaged and bloody, but it would still fly. I loaded it into my crossbow and backed myself away from groups of tired and starving people fighting to the death. This wasn’t fun, even for me. These people were weak and crazy and most of all, I was  _ supposed  _ to kill them, and kill them for other people’s enjoyment at that. 

A very frail and sickly looking man came hobbling towards me with a mace, but I figured he wasn’t worth my last bolt. I held onto Zicron’s shortsword tightly and apologized to the man before plunging it into his stomach. I felt a chill go up my spine at the feeling of the blade stealing the man’s life force, which made me feel a little less sorry. He was going to die anyways. 

I made my way back to the door I originally came in from when the amount of people in the pit dropped to only a few. I put my loaded crossbow back in my harness and waited for the last few people to drop. The gates opened again, the guards behind me approaching with their spears drawn. 

“Sheath your weapon!” One of them ordered, and I did as I was told, not interested in getting killed now. I slid Zicron’s sword under my belt near my dagger, a place he probably wouldn’t mind laying his hands. I wouldn’t mind either, at the moment. The guards tossed me back into the maze and I pulled myself up as fast as I could, hiding against the walls in the shadows. I watched as a few more people were tossed down here like paper ink had been spilled on. 

They all scrambled away, some of them still high off the heat of battle and bloodthirsty. The last one tossed down was a young woman, her ginger hair shining in the light before the door was slammed closed. 

“Fuck,” she growled, and I immediately realized who it was. 

“Sunstone?” I asked, walking over and pulling her up. 

“Oh, it’s you,” she muttered, “so you were right, huh? Zircon came and found you.”

“Mhm,” I confirmed, letting go of her and backing up to a wall. I pulled the shortsword off my waist and wiped the blood off of it with my cloak. 

“So how’s he getting you out?”

“Can’t tell you that,” I chuckled, running a finger over the blade to check for any more blood. I didn’t want the blade to rust. 

“What, I can’t come with you?” She asked, sounding genuinely confused. 

“Why the fuck would I - let alone  _ Zicron  _ \- let you come with us?” I responded. She already didn’t like me from last night, so I wasn’t too interested in letting her come along. 

“Wow okay, leave me for dead,” she mumbled. I heard her take a step towards me so I pointed Zicron’s sword out and pressed the tip against her chest. 

“I’m sure Zicron would like to hear I killed you with his sword,” I told her, drawing the sword down her chest. I didn’t know if it was breaking skin, but who knows. Didn’t matter to me. 

“Wait,  _ his  _ sword?” She uttered out, and I lessened the pressure I was putting on her. 

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”

“His short sword?”

“Yep,” I confirmed, adjusting my grip slightly. 

“He’s literally in love with that sword,” she explained, “he would never let  _ anyone _ touch it, let alone fight with it! You’re something special, huh?”

“I… I don’t know,” I spoke slowly, feeling a bit flattered. He must’ve actually trusted me, more than anyone else. That’s… I don’t know why he would. “He just tossed it down to me.”

“Wow, he must’ve changed a lot,” she reasoned, “or he’s lost his mind.” I pressed the sword back to her chest.

“Alright, I suggest you stop asking questions and run off, because you’re not getting out of here with us,” I threatened, and she stepped back, the sword dragging down her shirt. 

“Fine. Send Zircon - or Zicron, I guess - my regards.” And with that, she turned and marched off, following the wall along. 

I slid to sit down on the dusty cobblestone and ignited a flame so I could inspect Zicron’s sword. It was a beautiful blade, and I could tell he took care of it. I ran my cloak across the blade again to make sure it was polished nicely. I also checked for any chips in the edge, but found it perfect. The blade itself was made of a blue-grey metal, and the hilt was a circular shape with some embellishments on it. It’s balance was near perfect, and I could tell it was old but taken care of. 

Why would he let me use it? He clearly still loved the sword. I could feel my face heat up a bit as I thought about it. Why did he get my heart racing like this? He wasn’t even here, for Azrael’s sake. The thought of him giving me something so important to him made butterflies fly in my stomach. I extinguished my flame for a moment and pulled my gauntlets off so I could admire the sword’s smoothness. I ignited my right hand and watched my fingers glide across the bluish metal. His ring glittered on my finger, also completely undamaged and in perfect condition, from what I could see. 

I kept my fire away from the metal in case it got ash or something on it. I didn’t want to do anything to it, in fears of breaking it, even though it could clearly handle being plunged through multiple rib cages.

I rested the sword on my lap gently and pulled out my only remaining bolt, inspecting it. The end of it was bent and the wood was splintered. I tried to smooth the splinters down, but it just ruined it more. I slid it back into my crossbow in case I really needed to use it before I grabbed my favourite dagger. I had three on me at all times, one strapped to my thigh and one hidden in my cloak. I called my main dagger Ghost, since she could tear through flesh like she wasn’t really there. The blade itself wasn’t straight like Zicron’s, it’s spine was curved a bit and the base of the edge had two circular divots in it which could tear deep into muscle and break bones. 

I set my dagger next to Zicron’s sword and looked them both over. They seemed to fit together, almost. Like they were a good duo. Maybe I just liked the idea of Zicron and I being a good duo. I mean, we took good care of Alaric, I must say. Not to mention, he was a good kisser, which I couldn’t fault him for. 

I pulled a piece of bread out of my cloak and inspected it quickly. I decided it might be nice to toast it, so I exposed it to my open flame for a little bit. Maybe I’d save a piece for - nah, we’re going to the bar as soon as I’m out of here. I coughed down my slightly burnt bread in two bites, then took a drink of my metallic tasting water. 

I wonder what’s happening at the castle right now? They’re down three officials Alaric, Warren, and me, and I’m sure everyone is pissed off at everyone else considering half of them thought I was innocent and the other half thought Warren was. Rose I’m sure is having a rough time, considering how upset she was that I was being sentenced. I wish I could’ve said goodbye to her, but it was too late now. Maybe someday we’ll see each other again. 

A drop of bright red blood fell from my nose and landed on Zicron’s sword, but it sizzled and disappeared immediately. I had seen it happen only once before, when I had gotten some of my blood on my own dagger - it just disappeared. I tried to wipe the blade off, to stop his sword from getting any imperfections, but it was completely gone. I guess it’s just what my blood does to metal. I willed my flame out of existence and wiped my nose with my cloak. 

Rain started to splatter on the ground outside. The sound always made me relax a bit. I can remember all the times I’d sit at my window or at the top of the central tower in the rain, just listening. I didn’t like being wet, but the cold never bothered me. I wanted to climb back up to the door and listen to the rain hit the metal door, but I wouldn’t be able to reach the ledge above. I rested my head back against the wall and started my long,  _ long  _ wait, doing absolutely nothing for hours. Sleep washed over me for a little bit, my dagger clutched in one hand and Zicron’s sword in the other. 

* * *

I woke up to a small knock on the door above me. 

_ “ _ Obsidian _ ,”  _ he called out quietly, and I jumped up.

“Zicron!” I cheered in a whisper, nearly falling over because my legs had fallen asleep. 

“Help me pull this door open,” he said, but the ledge was too high for me to pull myself up. I slid my dagger and his sword into my belt and tried my best to jump up, but it was no use. 

“I can’t, I’m too far down.”

“Oh, alright,” he sighed, sounding a bit paranoid. I couldn’t blame him. I wondered how many guards were out there, “just sit tight, we’ll get you out.”

“We’ll?” I asked as the door creaked above me. 

“Slate’s here too,” he mentioned briefly, but she didn’t say anything. I didn’t know who Slate was, but based on her name, she was an assassin too. Slowly light poured into the hallway and I squinted into it, pushing my hood down. It was still raining outside, and wet sand spilled down into the halls as the door opened. “Here, hold that,” Zicron told his friend, and he carefully stepped onto the platform above me.

When he met my eyes, a wide, genuine smile cracked across his face. 

“See, I told you I’d get you,” he assured, crouching down and reaching his hands out to me. 

“I would’ve killed you had you not,” I chuckled, taking a run up and grabbing onto him. He pulled me up and dragged me into a tight hug, like we had been friends forever and he hadn’t seen me in years. I definitely need it, hugging him back just as tightly. He pressed a kiss to my cheek and I felt him smile into it. 

“You’re not hurt, are you?” He asked, leaning back and helping me stand on the slick stone. 

“I’m completely fine,” I told him, smiling to add some solidarity. When we got out into the rain, I took a deep breath of the fresh air. The door slowly closed behind us and I noticed Slate, a darker skinned girl with red, braided hair. She smiled and offered her hand.

“I’m Slate. Heard a lot about you,” he greeted, and I shook her hand. We all started jogging out of the arena. 

“Really? Well, it’s nice to meet you,” I responded, and I felt Zicron’s hand slide into mine. I squeezed it in return. At the gate to the arena, there lay two fully armed guards with arrows piercing through their faceplates. “Impressive,” I noted, and the both of them seemed pretty proud of themselves. 

“I’m sure it did more damage than that fancy crossbow of yours could do,” Zicron teased, reaching back with his free hand and pulling my broken bolt out. “Especially with this twig.”

“Hey, I had to protect myself,” I countered, before I remembered his sword. I let go of his hand and grabbed it off my hip, handing it to him, “thank you. It served me well.”

“You gave him your sword!?” Slate blurted out as Zicron took it and inspected it. 

“Oh yeah, I heard you were super protective about your sword,” I mentioned.

“From who?” He asked, returning it to his sheath under his cloak. He took my hand again. 

“Some girl I met in the pit, called herself Sunstone. She said she knew you.”

“Ugh,” he groaned, “that bitch. She tried to kill me after I ditched the covenant. Slate here stopped her,” he continued to explain. 

“Yeah she was being all bitchy to me even after I gave her water and brought her to food. I was really tempted to plunge your blade through her chest,” I chuckled, and he nodded in response. 

“You should’ve.”

“I didn’t want to damage your sword,” I reasoned, glancing at the blade hanging down from his hip. 

“Oh, it’s basically indestructible,” he mentioned, “you wouldn’t be able to even chip it.”

“Alright you’re dodging the point though,” Slate interrupted, “you’ve never let anyone touch that sword before, and then you gave it to him?”

“I got him tossed in the pit, I was going to protect him at least,” he explained, giving me a look that said ‘I’m sorry’. “How’d you even get caught?”

“That’s the thing,” I began, “the queen didn’t think I did it at all. She only sentenced me because people were getting mad at her because I was shady. She sent Warren down there too, I tried to pin it on him.”

“Warren?” Slate repeated curiously, “the ambassador?”

“Mhmm. He was hitting on me when we all sat down for a meeting so I told everyone he was acting all loopy and nervous,” I explained, and I felt Zicron squeeze my hand again. 

“He was hitting on you?” He asked, and I couldn’t hide my smile. 

“I fucked him once years ago,” I told him, “but he was such a prick that I immediately forgot he existed.”

“Oh,” he mumbled, “I hope you killed him down there.”

“He’s probably dead. I gave him a good stab in the side,” I assured him. We came up to the tavern and Slate walked ahead of us.

“Well guys, I’m gonna stay out for a while,” she said, turning to wave goodbye. “See you later.”

“See you,” Zicron responded. I turned to look at him.

“I’m actually kind of hungry,” I mentioned, and he looked down apologetically.

“I don’t think it’s the greatest idea to have you seen in public, but I’ve got food and stuff at my place if you’d like to stay?” He offered, rain spilling through his hair. His eyes glittered in the golden lantern light. 

“Yeah, I’d like that,” I smiled, and his whole face lit up. He didn’t hesitate to take my face between his hands and press a soft kiss to my lips, one that said  _ ‘I trust you,’  _ but also asked  _ ‘do you trust me?’  _ In kind. I returned the kiss with just as much kindness, assuring him that I did indeed trust him. Something about his soft lips and worried smile and hands on my hips made it seem like there was something more behind this, like he  _ missed  _ me and  _ cared  _ about me. I had to admit, I felt that way about him at this point. 

He pulled back from me and our lips popped, and he rested his forehead against mine. 

“We… we should go off together,” he proposed quietly, squeezing my hips. 

“Where?” I responded in just as quiet a manner. 

“Anywhere. We can’t stay here, that’s for sure.”

“What about the revolution?” I asked, opening my eyes to see his shut tight in thought. 

“We could go to the other kingdoms, tell them Myonox is on thin ice,” he suggested. He opened his eyes as well, staring deep into my own. 

“As long as I don’t get thrown back in the pit,” I agreed, “I’d go anywhere with you.”

“And they call me the charming one,” he chuckled, pressing another kiss to my lips. When he pulled back, he wrapped an arm around my waist and led me down the street for a bit. “What do you say, we stock up at the blacksmith’s tomorrow morning, highjack you a horse, and we head for… how about Fort Narrows? They’re the most battle crazy.”

“Sounds like a plan. Well, I have my own horse though, y’know?” I mentioned. 

“Oh? I guess you  _ are _ royalty,” he reasoned, “I’ll have to tell Slate to maybe… how about she spreads the word about you being the queen's assassin? How many kills have you got under your belt?”

“I honestly can’t even tell you,” I chuckled, “I mean, I killed my first victim when I was 13, and I’m 27 now, so if I kill about a person a week, that’s… what?”

“I’m not very good at math but I’m going to say that’s a lot,” he smiled, “either way, the kingdom wouldn’t be very happy to hear you’ve killed hundreds of people for the queen.”

“Well, I haven’t killed all of them, just the ones I found reasonable,” I mentioned. 

“Oh? Where do you draw the line?”

“Children, pregnant women, people who did literally nothing to deserve death,” I explained, “I usually just tell them to skip town otherwise I’d be forced to take care of them.”

“You’re awfully kind for an assassin,” he chuckled, pulling me against his side. I started to be able to hear the rain thundering into the river, and I recognized where we were - near where we first met, in the alleyway. 

“I just have morales,” I responded as he led me up to a small wooden cabin. I didn’t mind the small enclosure, the castle was too big for me anyways. He let me into a small, completely empty room. 

“I know, I know, this isn’t it,” he assured, letting go of me and crouching down in the corner. He lifted a trap door up in the dark and I ignited a flame for us to see with. He helped me climb down and I took a look around. It was a modest room, not very big but it held a small bed and a dresser. “It’s not much, but it’ll do for the night.”

“I don’t mind it,” I smiled at him, lighting a lantern and extinguishing my own flame. He opened a bag of apples sitting in the corner of the room and tossed me one. I immediately bit into it, finding it a tad too sour but I was hungry enough to not care. 

I watched from beside the lantern at the side of the room as Zicron started shedding layers, gently placing his sword and bow and arrows on the dresser. He threw his cloak over the baseboard of the bed before starting at his two belts. He glanced up at me and offered a sly smile. 

“Need something?” He asked, dropping his belts into his dresser and pulling his shirt off to reveal his chest. I couldn’t deny that he was a good looking guy, and he was definitely my type. He wasn’t super muscled but he was clearly strong considering he was trained to climb towers since he was a child. I noticed a vicious scar crossing his shoulder, but figured I wouldn’t mention it. He tossed his shirt in his drawers as well.

“Hm? No, just enjoying the view, don’t mind me,” I chuckled, finishing the apple in my hand and burning it to a crisp with my fire. 

“Oh, well, feel free to join me whenever you want,” he offered, climbing into bed. 

“I’m a bit tired,” I mentioned, hanging my cloak over the end of the bed with his. 

“I’m not interested either,” he agreed, watching me unbuckle all of my belts and set my knives on the dresser with his things. My pouch of marbles clattered against the table and he looked over curiously. “What was that?”

“My marbles,” I answered simply, pulling my shirt over my shoulders. It had been a long time since I slept without being fully clothed, but I trusted Zicron. He didn’t seem to mind the white lines tracing my body. He snorted behind me.

“Marbles? What on earth do you need those for?”

“They’re good for distracting people,” I reasoned, pacing over to his bed and sitting myself down with my back turned to him. I kicked my boots off onto the floor next to his. 

“What are you even talking about? Just use a rock.”

“They don’t glow as bright as glass when I heat them up,” I shot back, snapping my fingers so the fire in the lantern went out. 

“Heat them up? Okay that actually sounds pretty cool now,” he chuckled as I lied down beside him. “Oh, here, I don’t mind if you don’t mind.” He stretched his arm out behind me and I happily scooted over, resting my head on his chest. 

“This is so much nicer than sleeping on the stone floors of the pit,” I mentioned, laying one of my hands on his stomach. He traced his finger along my arm, running along my veins. 

“I’m sure it’s not as nice as a castle, though.”

“Actually, I like it,” I assured, pressing a kiss to his nearby skin. I could hear his heartbeat, and I absolutely adored the sound. I could get used to this. 

“Really?” He asked, his other hand tangling in my hair gently. 

“It’s warm,” I reasoned, “I can’t normally feel temperature very well, but this is nice.”

“You’re very warm,” he mentioned, pulling me further under the covers, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so at ease, to be honest.”

“Which is crazy, considering I’m a murderer. Then again, I’m not scared of you either,” I chuckled, revelling in the feeling of his fingers scratching at my scalp gently. I hummed out, and he sighed happily in response. 

“I’m glad you’re happy, considering your circumstances in life at the moment,” he pointed out quietly. 

“It’s not so bad, really,” I assured him, kissing his chest again, “I needed a new start in life, and now I’ve got you to take orders from. Hell, you listen to what I say too. It’s a big change.”

“I hope you voice your concerns and offer your opinions to me,” he told me, sounding quite sleepy. I realized I really liked the sound of his voice. So calming. “Your ideas are all probably better than mine in the long run anyways.”

“I doubt that,” I responded, a yawn escaping me, “but I think both of us thinking together could come up with some good plans.”

“You’re probably right,” he mumbled, turning slightly so he could wrap both arms around me. There was a comfortable silence after that, both of us snuggling into one another like we’d been doing it for years. It didn’t take very long for me to fall asleep again for the second time that day, even though I probably didn’t need the rest. 

My dagger lay on the dresser across the room from us. 


	4. A Break For Freedom

_ Zicron, Myonox. _

The room was pitch dark when I woke up, so I didn’t know what time it was. It was probably the morning, considering I’d gotten pretty used to waking up at sunrise. My arm stung when I went to move it, stuck under Obsidian’s neck all night. He was so warm. I could definitely get used to sleeping with him. 

I had come to a realization in the middle of the night through a dream. If we were leaving today, why not go out with a bang? Sneak back into the castle and kill whoever Obsidian wants. I wanted to kill everyone who has ever wronged him in his entire life. I pulled the sleeping man closer to my chest, liking - hell, I might go so far as to say I loved it - the feeling of having him so close. 

He shifted in my arms and mumbled quietly, nuzzling his nose into my chest. I couldn’t stop the sigh of relaxation that left my lungs. I curled his fair hair between my fingers and a thought popped into my head, one I almost wanted to disagree with immediately. 

“I think I might be in love with you,” I whispered to Obsidian, and I was so glad he didn't register what I had said. I thought I might have some more deeply rooted feelings for him when I found out I had accidentally gotten him thrown in the pit, considering that was the first time in my life I had felt true worry. I wanted to find him the second I had heard he was going through some man made hell. 

Obsidian pushed his head up and squinted at me in the dark, his pupils glowing a pale while like his veins. He hummed out in greeting and rubbed his eyes gently before stretching. I could feel his muscles flex against my sides and he sighed happily. 

“Good morning,” I said, pulling my hand out of his hair as he sat up. 

“‘Morning,” he responded, leaning down to kiss my forehead like we were an old married couple. I couldn’t complain, obviously. I caught him by the back of the neck before he sat back up, pressing my lips against his through a sleepy haze. My heart jumped into my throat for a moment before he pulled away. “I guess we should get ready to skip town then,” he mentioned, putting his arms up and stretching again. I tried to trace one of the intricate lines that followed his spine up to his hands.

“Actually,” I began, sitting up beside him, “I was thinking, why don’t we make one last stop back at the castle? Let the queen know not to fuck with assassins, hm?”

“Who would we kill?” He asked as he climbed out of bed. He lit the lantern across the room and looked at his reflection in the small barrel of water in the corner.

“Whoever you want, of course,” I offered like it was obvious. I pulled the blanket around my shoulders, suddenly feeling frigid.

“I mean… there’s always… there’s always Wyvern,” he mentioned, fixing his hair as best he could. 

“He’s probably prancing around town looking for his sword still,” I pointed out, but he shook his head. 

“No, he thinks it was Warren. It’ll probably be hard to get him off on his own.”

“You could always just sink a bolt in his skull,” I suggested. 

“I’m out of bolts,” he mentioned, pacing over to the dresser. He picked his dagger up and looked at it like he had lost it. 

“I’ll buy you some more,” I offered.

“No, no, it’s fine. I’ve got money,” he assured, pulling his shirt over his shoulders. I dragged myself out of bed to join him.

“We could just combine our money if you’d like,” I continued, and he offered me a sly smile. 

“I thought you called yourself a thief? This is the opposite of stealing,” he chuckled, wrapping one of his belts around his waist. 

“I figured you’d understand that I don’t mind giving you things,” I pointed out, gesturing to my sword. I pulled my shirt on awkwardly. 

“Which I still don’t understand but I greatly appreciate,” he smiled, buckling the rest of his belts up. He slung his throwing knives sheath over his shoulder and secured it tightly. I pulled myself together and got dressed.

“I don’t really understand it either,” I laughed, grabbing my sword off the table and looking at it in the firelight. I loved the sword, every part of it. I had found it in one of the ancient ruins to the north when I was just a teenager, and had taken care of it ever since. “Have you ever been to any of the ruins up north?”

“No, but I’ve always wanted to. Aren’t they full of necromancers?” He asked, pulling his cloak on. He attached his crossbow to his harness and made sure it was secured. 

“Both of us combined could take out a den of necromancers, then we could see if there’s any treasure down there,” I offered, sliding my sword into its sheath, which I had also found in the ruins. “After we take care of Wyvern, of course.”

“I’d like that,” he mentioned, sharing a smile with me, “I always wanted to go on some adventure. We might be able to find one on the way to Fort Narrows.”

“Well then that’s what we’ll do,” I assured, grabbing my bow off the dresser and slinging it over my shoulder, along with my arrows. “Are you ready to head out?” He nodded confidently and followed me over to the ladder leading up to the house. I climbed up and popped the hatch open, and the light below me went out with a quiet snap of Obsidian’s fingers.  _ Show off. _

I closed the trap door behind Obsidian and he pulled his hood over his head, tucking his pale hair under it. “Here, we’ll stick to the alleyways. I’ll stop by the blacksmith for you and you can stay hidden,” I offered, taking his hand as we left the house, checking for any guards. There were never any guards at the waterfront - they didn’t care about the crime down here. They didn’t really care about crime in general, at least until the pit started losing all their combatants. At that point they’d start finding innocent people just so people would have some ‘entertainment’. 

Even as an assassin, I thought the pit was ridiculous. I especially thought that now, considering Obsidian was ‘innocent’ in the queen's eyes and he got tossed in anyways. I had never been to the pit in my life, but I’m sure it’s not anything nice. 

We dipped in behind the buildings along the road and followed along in the shadows. “How many times have you been thrown in the pit?”

“Twice,” he answered after a moment, “the first time was far worse, though.”

“How long? I mean, how long were you down there, if you don’t mind me asking,” I said apologetically, but I wanted to know what was going on in his head so I could try to help him. 

“Not that long. I lost track of time, though,” he explained, “but I had no weapons when I was down there the first time, no magic either. Or, well, I wasn’t good enough yet to have even a little flame to use to see.”

“I’m glad you got out alive,” I mentioned. I wouldn’t tell him I was sorry for him, I had figured out that he definitely wouldn’t like pity, especially from me. 

“Eh, I know how to handle myself,” he chuckled, clearly not phased by the questions. He looked up at the sun above from under his hood. 

When we came to the back of the tavern, we slipped into the back room and I told Obsidian to stay there. I nodded to Lance, letting him know that Obsidian was with me, even though he already knew what he looked like. The tavern was quieter than usual, considering it was the early morning, but there was a group of revolutionists here like always. I beckoned Slate over and she smiled as she approached. 

“Glad to see you got home safe,” she mentioned, “is Obsidian with you?”

“Yeah, just trying to lay low though,” I told her, “but we’ve got a plan. We’re going to skip town later today, we want you to start telling everyone that the queen had a royal assassin. He’s killed so many people he’s lost count, remember that.”

“I can do that,” she accepted, pushing some of her braids back, “but you’re leaving?”

“We can’t stay here,” I pointed out, leaning against the wall, “I’m sure they already know someone broke out last night, and it won’t take long for them to figure out it was Obsidian.”

“I know that,” she sighed, “but why do  _ you  _ have to go?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” I responded. I was genuinely confused on why she thought I’d stay. 

“You belong  _ here, _ leading all of us. What are we going to do without you?”

“What are you talking about? You know how to give directions,” I reasoned, but she crossed her arms and pouted slightly. 

“I don’t want you to leave…” she mumbled, “you’re my friend, I don’t want you gone.”

“I’ll come back, don’t worry,” I assured her, realizing she was legitimately upset, “I just owe this to Obsidian. I need to get away from the city myself, relax for a little bit. Nobody I’d rather do that with than with him.”

She looked at me like I was crazy, “you trust him too much, you’re going to end up with a blade in your back.”

“I know when someone is lying, and he’s not. He’s trustworthy,” I assured. There hadn’t been a single second that he seemed like he was interested in killing me, and if there was, I would’ve noticed it.

“Whatever you say,” she sighed, “don’t come crying to me when you show up in Azrael’s plains of agony.”

“You know I don’t believe in the plains of agony,” I pointed out. I didn’t believe in the afterlife, I figured death meant death and you didn’t get a second chance. It didn’t matter anyways, I was still alive. If there was a place after death, I’d deal with it when I got there. 

“Still,” she sighed, “you’re dead meat out there anyways. What are you even planning on doing?”

“We’re heading for ‘Narrows. Going to let them know the castle is crumbling.”

“But it’s not so bad that they could overthrow a kingdom like Myonox,” she mentioned.

“Not yet, it’s not. It will be by noon,” I assured, “but we should head out now, I’ll see you soon,” I continued, patting her shoulder.

“Goodbye,” she mumbled, hugging me tightly. I stepped back from her and didn’t look back as I returned to Obsidian. My heart ached, I didn’t want Slate to be upset, but I would be happier away from this city. 

“Alright, let’s go get you some bolts,” I mentioned as he followed me out into the alleyway again. 

“You okay?” He asked quietly, reaching for my hand. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. She was a bit upset I’m running off with you,” I chuckled, squeezing his hand. 

“I mean… why even are you?” He countered, “like I can manage out there, I’ll find somewhere I can stay. Hell, I could even go down to Fort Narrows and let them know what’s going on for you.” My heart dropped.

“You don’t want me to come?” I asked slowly, but he shook his head immediately.

“No, no, I do! I’d get awfully lonely out there without you,” he assured, “I figured  _ you _ might’ve been on the fence about leaving.”

“I want to stick around you, y’know?” I pointed out, “I really like you, I figured that was obvious. You’re a good friend.”

“Just a friend?” He questioned, his face too stoic to read. 

“Well, I’d like to think we’re a bit more than friends,” I chuckled, and a smile crept onto his face. 

“Good, good,” he responded. 

We got down to town square and I made sure Obsidian stayed hidden in an alleyway as I walked over to the blacksmith’s. 

“I’ve got just about anything you could need,” he mentioned, stepping back from his anvil. 

“How many crossbow bolts have you got?” I asked, and he went to check inside the building. I followed him in, and he laid a bunch on the front desk, all tied together with a strip of leather. 

“50 silver for all of them,” he told me. I was a bit surprised at the cost, but I paid nonetheless. The bolts themselves were pretty standard - not quite as fancy as the one splintered one that Obsidian had left - but I’m sure they’d still kill someone in an instant. I brought them back to Obsidian and he inspected them for a moment as he thanked me, pressing a kiss against my cheek. He unwrapped one of the packs of bolts and stuffed them into his quiver, tucking the other package into his cloak. I noticed he had hundreds of pockets on the inside of his cloak, and I felt a bit envious of that. My cloak had a few pockets, but they filled up pretty quickly. 

“Odd question, but your sword,” he began as we headed for the backside of the castle, “where’d you get it? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Found it in one of the ruins,” I smiled, resting my free hand on the pommel of the sword. 

“Oh, really? Lucky find,” he chuckled, “have you got a name for it?” 

“Actually,” I began, excited to talk about it, “I dug up some books, did some research and asked around, apparently it belonged to an ancient warlord, one of the ones that disappeared a thousand years ago. It’s called Windsever, I’m guessing it’s because it swings so fast.”

“I’ve heard the name before,” he mentioned, awe lacing his voice, “and you just found it in the ruin?” 

“Well, it was behind some pretty elaborate doors and traps and such, but it was just in a chest with a bunch of other stuff.”

“How’d you get through the doors?” He asked curiously.

“Oh, with this,” I started, pulling my lockpick out of my cloak. It was a little bit thicker than most lockpicks at the base of it, but the other side of it was as thin as a knife, great for fitting in locks of any kind. Not only that, but it could open doors without locks by just jamming it into the edge by the handle and forcing it open. 

“A lockpick? Those break so easily, though. You must’ve had tons of them.”

“This isn’t just any lockpick though. You can’t break it, no matter how hard you try,” I explained, taking it between my fists and bending it with all my might. He tried it for himself and was just flabbergasted, for lack of a better word. 

“Where the hell did you find that? What’s it even made of?” He questioned.

“I have no clue what it’s made of, but I stole it off a guy who had stolen it off of someone else and that person had stolen it from someone… a long line of thievery, to the point that nobody knows who it really belongs to or why it’s indestructible. My best bet is that it’s made out of duskium. I mean, my sword must be made of it considering the colour.”

“Wow, okay,” he uttered out, “that’s incredible, though. You’ve got some luck, having an ancient sword and a magically unbreakable lockpick.”

“Yeah, I’ve always had pretty good luck when it comes to things,” I smiled. We made our way up to the wall of the castle. “So where do you think he’ll be?”

“Well, it’s still pretty early, so I’d guess he’s still in his room. If he’s not, we’ll get someone to go get him,” he explained, taking a running jump to scale the wall. I followed him up, digging my fingers in between small stones and pulling myself up. He didn’t hesitate to drop down on the other side, but I crouched at the top, gaging the distance into the patch of grass below. “Oh, come on, coward,” he joked quietly, “I’ll catch you.”

I took a breath and crouched down to hang on the edge, taking a second to ready myself for the impact of the ground. I had been really cautious about far drops ever since I sprained my ankle years ago - it wasn’t a bad injury, but it fucks an assassin over royally. I let go of the ledge and landed softly on the grass that was still wet with morning dew. 

“See, I told you you’d be fine,” he mentioned, letting go of my waist from where he caught me. 

“Thanks,” I responded as he headed for the wall of the actual building. This one was much higher, but at least we’d be on the roof after. He made sure we were away from any windows and started climbing the ornate stones like he’d done it a thousand times before - and he probably had. I followed his exact steps, using the same ledges and gaps in the stones to push myself up the wall. When he reached the outcropping of the roof, he took a deep breath and took a leap of faith backwards, flailing to grab the eavestrough. My heart stopped for a moment, but he managed to grab a hold of the ledge and he pulled himself up easily. I did the same thing, but I’ve gotten pretty good at jumping to a ledge behind me after years of climbing the church. He pulled me up to stand on the tiled roof, both of us huffing for breath.

“I hope that tower isn’t as hard to climb as that,” I mentioned, rubbing my fingers together as I looked up at the central spire. 

“It’s not, I know a good route,” he assured, jogging across the roof towards the base of the tower. I followed him along, catching my breath as best I could. He seemed completely unfazed by the exertion as he climbed up the final tower, being sure to stay away from windows. Again, I followed like a duckling following its mother, taking the same steps that he did so I wouldn’t fall. My legs were numb by the time we reached the top of the tower, but he beckoned me up beside him as he peeked in a window. Inside sat a tired looking Wyvern and an older man who was talking to him. 

“Who’s that?” I asked, but he pulled me up to the room above us. He tumbled into the window and I did the same. 

“That’s the court wizard. What do you say, we kill two birds with one stone?” He offered, crouching down under the bed and pulling a box of old daggers out.  _ This must’ve been his room. So close to the queen.  _

“Sounds perfect,” I agreed as he tucked his blades into his cloak. He kicked it back under and gestured for me to get my bow out. He drew his crossbow and pointed it forward as he pushed his door open gently. He urged me to take a look at the guard outside. 

“One of yours?” He asked, but I didn’t recognize them, so I shook my head. He nudged me out of the way and fired a bolt at the guard’s skull without even flinching. I stayed close behind him as he snuck down the stairs at the end of the hall, asking me again if I recognized the guard on the next floor. 

“Oh, Rita!” I whispered, taking the lead and letting Obsidian follow. 

“What are you doing here?” She asked quickly, glancing around nervously. “I thought you were in the pit?”

“I was,” Obsidian mentioned, “I suggest you be seen somewhere as far away from here as possible,” he continued, creeping past her and to the door. She understood what was about to happen and I knocked an arrow as Obsidian reloaded his crossbow. “You get the old guy, I’ll kill Wyvern.” I nodded.

He pushed the door open slowly and I drew my bow back as far as I could, ready to let an arrow fly as soon as I could get a clear shot. Obsidian just sighed quietly and knocked the door open roughly with his elbow before pulling the trigger of his crossbow and it cracked through the royal champion’s head like a piece of dry bread. I let go of my arrow and it hit its target - the supposed court wizard. 

Obsidian stood up properly and waltzed into the room, looking at the two bloodied bodies. He drew his knife from his belt and crouched down beside the limp Wyvern, blood spreading across the floor under him. I noticed the little smile that crossed his face as he looked at the carnage he had caused on his own volition. I stepped up behind him and put my hand on his back. 

“Do it,” I encouraged, and he smiled up at me, adjusting his grip on his favourite dagger. He looked back down and dug his blade into the champion’s chest, twisting it.  _ This is revenge for him, Wyvern did something to hurt him. Bastard deserves to die.  _

Obsidian stood up and wiped his dagger off on his cloak, looking down at the court wizard. “Maybe you were right to be scared of me,” he chuckled to the body as he wandered over to the window. I hung my bow over my shoulder and followed him over, my heart rate slowly lowering. He grabbed me by the collar and pulled me up into a deep kiss, and a little part of my soul wished it meant a little more than it did. 

“You okay?” He asked quietly as he pulled back. He let go of my shirt and flattened it back down. 

“Yeah, of course I am,” I assured, “why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know, you just seem uninterested,” he mentioned, climbing out of the window. 

“Uninterested in what?”

“Me,” he continued, dropping down and taking his time, “I don’t know, it doesn’t really matter,” he dismissed, but he sounded a little bit upset. I climbed out and found a few handholds.

“I’m not uninterested in you, how could I possibly be uninterested in someone like you?” I asked jokingly, trying to cheer him up. I nearly slipped on the smooth stones, but I could hold myself up with my arms anyways. 

“I really hope you’re not being sarcastic,” he chuckled.

“Again, how could I possibly be sarcastic when it comes to you?” I asked, trying my best to work my charm. The climb down the tower felt like it lasted aged, but eventually I heard Obsidian jump off the wall and land silently on the roof. I hopped down with him and grabbed his arm before he could walk off, pulling him back to me. “You’re worried about something,” I pointed out, “that’s not regret, right?”

“Oh, absolutely not, I don’t regret anything. I’m just a bit worried about Rose,” he reasoned, looking back up at the tower. 

“The princess, right? You were friends if I remember.”

“Yeah, we were close. I just don’t want her to think she’s in danger,” he explained, and I nodded slightly, running my hand up and down his arm. 

“Well, they’ll figure out that it was you who killed them, she knows you wouldn’t hurt her,” I assured, leading him across the roof. 

“I guess,” he sighed, “but I’ll probably never talk to her again. I mean, she won’t want to talk to me.”

“It’ll be okay in the long run,” I told him as confidently as I could.

“I sure hope so,” he agreed, crouching down at the ledge of the wall, “let’s get out of this damn town.”

“Let’s.” We climbed down the wall and jumped the outer wall again, heading for the city gates. We stayed in the shadows like we had in the morning, and I felt my stomach growl at me. I could usually go a long time without eating, but I’d have to do it eventually. Maybe we’d stop somewhere along the road to Fort Narrows. It was a few days' travel on horseback anyways, and there were several smaller settlements between the cities. 

“So,” he began quietly as we dodged guards, “have you ever left town before?”

“A few times years and years ago,” I told him, “but it’s been so long that I can barely remember why I even left. You?”

“Once,” he explained, “went to kill the king and failed miserably. When I got back, Alaric claimed it was treason.”

“Holy shit,” I mumbled, “no wonder you wanted him dead so badly.”

“I was in the pit for four months.”

“Oh…” I trailed off, reaching over and running my hand along his back, “I’m glad you’re strong enough to push through that.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it, if that’s okay,” he murmured, bringing a hand up to his neck. He rolled his head a bit and his joints popped. 

“Of course,” I assured him. Did he really think that I’d make him say anything? We snuck out of the city gates by jumping in a cart of hay that a farmer was guiding along. Obsidian spit out some hay and looked up at me through the sharp stems. 

“I fucking hate hay, it makes me sneeze,” he chuckled, sniffling slightly. I couldn’t help the smile that cracked across my face at the sight of him. His hair blended into the golden hay, but his dark eyes and cloak contrasted greatly with its surroundings, which was the opposite of what it was meant to do. 

“It’s gonna stick to us for days,” I pointed out, and he sighed, trying to settle down comfortably. The cart bounced us around awkwardly, and we waited until we couldn’t hear voices outside to jump out, hay dragging along behind us. Obsidian sneezed as he tried to brush some of the golden grass off of him. I grabbed his arm and pulled him off the road and into the shrubbery next to it, just in case a guard saw us. 

“Ugh,” he groaned, sounding all nasally from his stuffed up nose. I reached up and tried to pull some of the hay out of his hair as he brushed his cloak off roughly. I was covered in hay too, but I wanted to tend to Obsidian first. 

“I like your hair like this,” I chuckled, shaking my hands through it and making it puff out wildly. 

“I can never keep it flat, I’ve gotta cut it some day,” I explained, reaching for my cloak and picking little stems out of it. 

“Oh, please don’t do that, it’s a beautiful head of hair,” I pleaded, twisting a curl around my finger. His hands paused near the collar of my cloak by the golden chain that secured it around my shoulders.

“You think so?” He asked, and I nodded confidently. “I always thought it was… different. I mean, it is. I’m very obviously not from here.”

“I like that it’s different,” I assured him, offering him a genuine smile. He curled his hands in the fabric of my cloak and pressed a quick kiss to my lips. I caught his lips again before he could pull away, dragging him down to my level. He nipped my bottom lip gently and pulled back again, chuckling. 

“Murder is one thing - we’ll get burned at the steak if anyone see this,” he pointed out, and I pulled my hands out of his hair. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I sighed, pulling his hood up. I looked down at my cloak and pulled the back around in front of me so I could brush out as much hay as I could before we headed to the stable down the road. “Your horse isn’t at the royal stables?”

“No, the queen didn’t ‘want to give the stable master too much work,’ apparently,” he explained, “but it’s not like I got the chance to ride her too much, considering I wasn’t really allowed outside the castle walls.”

“What’s her name?” I asked, resting my hand on the pommel of my sword. 

“Sunder,” he responded, “she’s a beautiful horse, I’m sure you’ll love her.”

“Oh, that’s a really cool name!” I told him, excited to meet her. 

“What’s your horse’s name?”

“Oh, uh,” I started, feeling a bit embarrassed. Sunder was a powerful and mysterious name for a horse, but mine was just “Bean, his name is Bean.”

“Bean?” He snorted, raising an eyebrow at me. 

“Well he’s a pinto and he’s small and he’s super energetic - he just reminds me of a bean,” I tried to reason, and he just laughed. 

“That’s adorable,” he giggled, pushing his hair back under his hood. 

“Oh? You like it?” I uttered out, my embarrassment falling away. 

“Of course I do,” he smiled wide, making my heart melt, “I didn’t know you had a soft spot for horses.”

“Any animal, really. I have nothing against anything that isn’t human,” I explained as we approached the small stable. We kept our heads down and didn’t talk to anyone as we walked into the building and dug out our tack, his being a beautiful black leather that I could never afford. My equipment was old and not exactly well taken care of, the opposite of his. I followed him outside with our things, heading to the large green pasture full of 20 odd horses belonging to the citizens of the city. Obsidian hopped the fence and called to his horse.

“Sunder!” He whistled. My horse would never come to me calling him, so I grabbed my halter and paced across the field towards the short, brown and white spotted horse. A black horse far taller than mine sauntered across the field, over to Obsidian. Sunder somehow fit her very well, with her long, skinny legs and pulled mane. Pure black, aside from her little white socks on three of her legs. 

Bean, on the other hand, took off as soon as he saw me, running towards the fence. I groaned aloud and heard Obsidian laughing at me over by the gate. I had done this dance before, trying to catch the bastard. He shook his neck out and looked at me with wide eyes. He thought this was a game. It took me a good 10 minutes to finally catch him and drag him over to the gate, where I could tie him up tightly. 

“Have fun?” Obsidian asked, and I gave him a flat look. 

“Incredible amounts,” I said sarcastically, grabbing a small brush and getting to work trying to get the mud off of my originally white horse. 

“He does seem like a bean,” he mentioned, wandering over and patting his head gently. 

“Watch, he might bite you,” I warned jokingly. Bean wasn’t that bad, he only tried to nip if you fucked with his saddle for long enough. He walked back over to Sunder and grabbed a pick to clean out her hooves. He reached up and unclasped his cloak, letting it hang freely around his shoulders. 

“How old is he?” He asked as he bent over to pick up Sunder’s front hoof. She reached her head around and poked him with her nose, nearly knocking him over. He seemed unfazed and kept working on her other hooves. 

“Around 13 or 14, I believe,” I answered, trying to brush the knots out of his tail. Bean danced around a little bit, making me follow him along as I did his tail. 

“Awfully rambunctious for that old,” he chuckled, tossing his hoof pick in the bucket full of brushes he had. 

“How old is Sunder?” I asked, leaving Bean’s tail for now and starting on his hooves, trying to catch him as he moved around. 

“16, I got her when she was just young, I think I was 14,” he explained, awkwardly pushing his saddle up onto her back. Even he was too short to properly reach that high. 

“She’s beautiful,” I told him, more or less also meaning ‘you’re beautiful’.

“She really is, isn't she?” He said proudly, rubbing her neck gently. Her mane stuck right up, having been pulled rather recently. He attached her girth to the saddle on the side closest to me and walked over to the other side to secure it there. By the time she was all tacked up and grazing happily at the green grass, I was still trying to do Bean’s girth up, but he wouldn’t stop moving around. 

“Here, I’ll stand on this side and hold him still, you do the girth up,” he offered, walking over and putting his hands on Bean’s shoulder and haunch. I jogged over to the other side and reached for the girth under him, pulling it up as fast as I could. 

“He might push you over,” I warned as I pulled the girth tight. Bean tried to move towards Obsidian, but didn’t get too far before I had the girth done up as far as I could get it. Now was the even bigger challenge - getting the bridle on. “Can you do this? He always puts his head too high and I can’t reach it,” I asked a bit embarrassed, but he nodded and took the old leather bridle from me. 

“Shorty,” he chuckled, unhooking Bean’s halter and tossing the reins over his head before he could take off. He threw his head up high and Obsidian reached up as high as he could to pull him back down. It took some wrestling, but he got the bit in his mouth and I held on tight to Bean so he wouldn’t take off again. 

“Help me up?” Obsidian asked, wandering back over to Sunder, “I used to take running jumps to get on but I don’t want to hurt her,” he explained. I tied Bean up to the fence tightly and walked over to Obsidian as he clasped his cloak back together. I laced my fingers together and gave him a small little platform to stand on so I could hoist him up higher. He threw his leg over the saddle and sat himself down, a smile on his face. 

I pat Sunder’s muscled neck gently as she lifted her head. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and untied Bean from the fence, quickly hopping on his back before he could decide to run off again. 

“Alright, let’s get the hell out of here,” he said, urging Sunder from a halt to a canter, heading straight for the fence. Sunder cleared it easily, not having to jump super high to get over the low fence. He slowed her down and turned to watch me. I took a breath, not completely trusting Bean, but urging him to hop the fence as well. I kept myself off his back as he lurched over it and landed hard on the other side. I let go of the breath I had been holding and looked over at a smiling Obsidian. 

He turned Sunder around and headed off down the grassy field and I followed as fast as I could. Sunder’s casual trot covered much more ground than Bean’s, so he hand to canter along every so often to keep up. 

Obsidian pushed his hood down and looked up at the partly cloudy sky. Sometimes he threw me into a trance, I swear. Like my eyes would lock on and couldn’t pull themselves away - not that I wanted to, of course. He seemed calm and happy and free. That was probably it, he didn’t have to answer to anyone anymore. It was just him and I out on the roads with our horses in search of an ancient ruin. 

Bean lurched into a halt a few times to try and grab some grass, and it always resulted in a giddy laugh from Obsidian and some snarky remark. 

“At this pace, it’ll take a week to get to ‘Narrows,” he teased as we looked between trees, slowly entering the forest. 

“Shut up,” I responded jokingly as we slowed our horses to a walk. We walked for a few minutes in silence before he piped up with a question. 

“So is a shortsword your favourite weapon? Or would you pick something else if you weren’t an assassin?” He asked, giving me all of his focus. 

“Oh, that’s a tricky one,” I thought for a moment, “if I could pick anything, I’d say… maybe a flail or a morning star. Something a bit heavier that would crush someone’s bones.”

“That’s a good choice. I’d probably settle for a chakram, if you’ve ever seen one of those.”

“The circular blades, right?” I continued, and he nodded. “Yeah, those would deal some damage. Too bad they’re awkward to carry.”

“They’re heavier than daggers, too,” he pointed out. At this point, the conversation sort of trailed off. He didn’t seem to mind it too much, looking up at the canopy of leaves above us, but I tried to think of something to say. 

“This might sound a little weird, but have you ever felt... I don’t know… appreciated?” It was an invasive question, I know, but I wanted to know if there was a way I could make him feel that way. 

“Are we talking recently or in my whole life?” He asked, not bothered by the question.

“Whole life.”

“Well, of course I’ve felt appreciated before. Not a  _ lot,  _ but a few times,” he explained.

“I figured you’d say something like that,” I sighed, “you deserve all the appreciation in the world,” I continued to assure him. He looked down and smiled, his hair falling into his face. 

“You don't mean that,” he chuckled quietly, twisting his fingers together in his lap. His reins were tied in a knot around Sunder’s neck, making sure she didn’t step through them. 

“I really do, you're just… you’re great,” I tried to describe, but words failed me. 

“‘Great’ isn't how most would describe an assassin,” he giggled. 

“I’m not good with words,” I smiled, “get used to it.”

“More a man of action, huh?” 

“Yeah, I’m better at things like that. I do, not say,” I explained. 

“Based on what you just said, I beg you to stay far away from words,” he teased, laughing that cute little laugh. He watched my expression become absolutely love struck in a split second, falling for that stupid laugh. He raised an eyebrow slightly. “Tell me what’s on your mind,” he wished, and I so badly wanted for Bean to drift over towards Sunder so we could be just a little bit closer. 

“Never leave me,” I begged, but I kept my voice casual. I didn’t need him thinking I was too far in at this point, “no matter what stupid fuckery I do.”

“I won’t,” he assured with a small, genuine smile. He reached across the gap and rested his hand against my cheek, running his thumb across my skin gently. I tried to convince myself that it was a gesture that screamed  _ I love you,  _ but I couldn’t be sure. I turned my head slightly and pressed a kiss to his palm, offering him a smile of pure love. 

Bean spooked and wrenched me away from Obsidian. I nearly lost my balance, pulling him to turn in a tight circle. “Fuck,” I groaned, looking around the forest for whatever it was that scared him. 

“You okay?” Obsidian asked, Sunder seeming unfazed by everything. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” I mentioned, patting Bean’s shoulder. I urged him on again and he looked around quickly. “Way to ruin the moment, fucko,” I said to my horse, and my mood lightened when Obsidian snorted. 

“Ooh, I like that, one. Fucko is probably my new favourite name to call people,” he giggled, his smile radiating like the sun. 

“Are you gonna start calling me fucko now?” I asked, relaxing despite the worried horse carrying me. 

“And this is my fucko, Zicron,” he demonstrated, tossing his hair out of his face. 

“ _ Your _ fucko?”

“It’s too late to turn back now, you’re mine whether you like it or not,” he laughed. Either he had the confidence of a certain royal champion or he knew I was already so far in. The latter was probably the more likely. 

“You make good decisions,” I chucked, “but I’m probably biased.”

“Yeah, most people would probably think I’m a complete fucking moron, running off with some guy after killing three officials,” he agreed, “but hey, they’ll never know how it feels to be alive.”

“I mean, you did ditch a royal lifestyle for becoming a wanted criminal,” I pointed out, and he shrugged.

“Worth it,” he decided, his smile widening. 

“I’m glad you think that.” We fell into a comfortable silence and chatted a little bit on our way to the next town over. It was a small place, only 20 or so buildings, but it was nice. They probably got quite a few travellers passing through since they were so close to Myonox. We stopped at the little market they had, grabbing enough food to keep us happy for the next few days of travel. We split the weight between both of our horses and headed outside of the town, stopping in a small glade a kilometre or so away. 

“This seems like a nice little place,” Obsidian was saying as Bean wrenched the reins out of my hands, diving for the green grass below. He hopped off of Sunder’s back and landed gracefully on the forest floor, tying his reins in a tight knot above his horse's neck. I slid off of Bean and tried to pull his head up so I could tie him to a nearby tree, but he was ten times stronger than me. Obsidian watched as I fought with the horse, dragging him over to the closest tree and unbuckling the reins so I could wrap them all the way around the trunk. 

“Stay there,” I told him, even though he’d probably run off if he could. He had gotten away from me once when I was out in the middle of nowhere, but he eventually came back to me, so he must’ve liked me a little bit. 

“He’s quite the handful,” Obsidian mentioned as he pulled one of the packs of food off of Sunder’s back and loosened her girth. She snorted happily into the grass below. 

“You should try riding him,” I offered jokingly, also loosening his girth a little bit. 

“Sure, you can ride Sunder for the rest of the day if you’d like,” he agreed, sitting himself down in a patch of sun. He pulled his cloak off and sat on it like a blanket. I joined him over in the light, admiring the way it made his features glow. 

“I’d appreciate that,” I chuckled, “you’d probably be better at controlling him anyways.” He handed me a piece of bread and I wolfed it down in a few bites, still starving from this morning. He looked up at the midday sky and closed his eyes gently, letting the warmth wash over him. I reached over and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear, and his smile grew without opening his eyes. 

“The sun feels so nice. I can almost feel the warmth from it,” he mentioned, keeping his eyes shut. 

“Almost?”

“I don’t know how to describe it,” he elaborated, “it’s like a nice tingly feeling.”

“So you’ve never been able to feel temperature?” I asked, pulling my gauntlets off and flexing my fingers. 

“Not as far as I can’t tell. Like the cold stings a bit and I sweat when it’s hot, but I can’t really feel the difference,” he explained, and I almost felt sad for him. He clearly didn’t mind though. I took his hands in mine and pulled his gauntlets off too, and he let me do it without saying a word. The ring on his finger sparkled in the sunlight, and I didn’t have a single regret about giving it to him.

I traced a finger down one of his white veins and he giggled quietly. “That tickles,” he mentioned, his hand flinching away. He opened his eyes and looked down at me, making my heart skip a few too many beats. He leaned over and kissed me on the nose quickly, smiling a wide, cheeky grin. I punched his shoulder gently in retaliation, and he shoved me back, laughing. 

Our play fighting escalated to him shoving me down onto the grass and pinning me down by the shoulders. The cool grass poked into my back where my shirt had risen up. His knife fell out of his belt and bounced dangerously off my stomach and onto the grass below. 

“Oh, fuck,” he uttered out, picking it up and returning it to his belt, securing it tightly.

“That’d be a way to die,” I chuckled, wrapping my arms around his neck. He laughed with me and leaned down to kiss my jaw bone a few times. 

“I’d rather be the death of you as opposed to someone else,” he spoke into my neck, leaning back a bit. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but where did you get this scar from?” He continued, dragging his finger down my chin lightly. 

“Oh, this thing? Got in a knife fight with another assassin when I left the covenant, gave me this nasty thing,” I explained, and he sat up, resting his weight on my stomach. 

“The same for the one on your shoulder?”

“Correct,” I confirmed, hoping he didn’t mind the imperfections. 

“You won the fight, right?” I nodded, and he smiled, “then that’s all that matters.”

“I killed that bastard. His name was fucking Silver, I will forevermore hate that name,” I chuckled. He rolled off of me and sat himself down heavily next to me, staying close. 

“I hate when people ruin names,” he sighed, ripping a handful of grass out of the ground and sprinkling it on my chest. I let him pile it up as much as he wanted, putting my arms behind my head. He picked a dandelion and twisted it into my hair, making heat rise to my face slightly but I disregarded the embarrassment because of his gleeful smile. 

“What’s your favourite colour?” I asked simply as he kept plucking grass out of the ground. 

“Blue,” he responded quietly. Picking a white dandelion and holding it in front of my face. I blew on it as hard as I could, only managing to get half the seeds off of it. He giggled and tapped me on the nose with it. “What’s yours?”

“Pale yellow,” I smiled, reaching up and twisting a lock of curly hair around my finger. His pale skin reddened a bit but his smile never fell. 

Slowly, our patch of sun drifted away from us and we decided to continue on our journey north. Obsidian helped me up onto Sunder and I was immediately relieved that she didn’t even move. I untied the knot in her reins and she lifted her head from the ground slowly, ready to continue on. 

I watched as Obsidian untied Bean from the tree and tried to jump onto his back, but he sidestepped a few times until he was pressed against the tree truck, scratching up my saddle even more. I watched him struggle for a few minutes before he finally climbed on and Bean ducked his head down to graze again. He sighed, but didn’t complain, pulling the reins up. Bean raised his head immediately, and I had to admit, I was surprised. 

“How’d you do that?” I asked.

“Lift up, don’t pull back,” he advised, “he’ll always be stronger than you, lifting pushes the bit up and makes your life a little easier.”

“I wish I had found that out years ago,” I laughed, urging Sunder on gently. She obeyed immediately, walking forward at a lazy pace. Her stride was longer than Bean’s and had me completely relaxed immediately. Obsidian urged Bean on into a canter and he very clearly had gained all his energy back, taking off past me. Sunder followed the lead of her owner and climbed into a loping stride, nearly as smooth as her walking. She caught up to Bean easily, coving far more ground than the short little pony. 

“Wow, she’s a great ride,” I commented. The sly bastard responded with a simple,

“So am I, y’know?” He laughed at his own joke and I rolled my eyes.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I laughed with him. 

We continued through the forest for a few hours before passing through another town. We didn’t stop, but we heard a few whispers about a group of people who had gone off to a nearby ruin earlier that day. 

“Shall we?” He offered, and I nodded happily. 

“Sounds like fun, maybe we’ll find something valuable,” I agreed, and we asked a passerby where we could find these ruins. 

“About ten klicks in that direction,” she explained, “you can’t miss it, it’s giant. Be careful though, there’s a group of necromancers giving us some trouble,” she continued to warn.

“Thank you,” Obsidian smiled under his hood, nodding to her. She wandered off and we continued along the road in the direction she indicated. “I don’t think I’ve been this excited for a long time,” he continued to me, his adorable smile never faltering. 

“No? I have to say, I’m pretty excited too,” I agreed, “hopefully we’ll be as lucky as I was the first time I explored one.”

“That’d be awesome, finding some ancient weapons. They were made to last, clearly,” he pointed out, gesturing to my sword. 

“Well, I heard it was enchanted with some sort of spell,” I mentioned, remembering multiple people telling me that when I was trying to figure out what was so special about the sword. “I thought you might’ve been able to feel it or something, considering you’re some sort of god sent vessel of magic.”

“I’m not a ‘god sent vessel of magic’,” he argued, reaching over and running his hand against the blade of my sword. He shook his head slightly, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I can’t feel anything.”

“What makes you think you aren’t?” I continued, referring to where his magic came from. 

“Not even that long ago, I could barely hold a flame for ten seconds. I’d pass out if I used too much magic, yet now I can use a flame as a torch for hours and barely feel it, I can heal deep wounds, I can create water out of thin air,” he went on, demonstrating his magic by igniting his entire hand. 

“Exactly, you’re getting better extremely fast,” I tried to reason, “and that’s not even mentioning the fact that you can do literally any kind of magic.”

“I don’t know what I am,” he sighed, looking down, “I just hope I’m not wrapped up in something I don’t know anything about.” 

“I’m sure there’s nothing behind it,” I lied. I really thought there was something higher at play here, but if it’d make him feel better by downplaying it, I’d do it in a heartbeat. “It’s probably just some coincidence.”

“I hope you’re right,” he spoke warily. 

We continued through the wooded area until we found ourselves at the top of a grassy hill. In the distance, a large rocky building stretched out across the land, half of it buried underground. The parts that were above ground were destroyed and crumbling. We urged our horses into a loping canter, and I found Sunder’s extremely smooth. 

Obsidian looked confused as we neared the building, his arm hair raising like an unknown force was pushing at it. Something was off. 


	5. The Iridium Curse

_ Obsidian, Ancient Ruins of the Prospering Plains. _

A shiver went down my spine as we arrived at the ruin, and not a nice shiver by any means. One that screamed  _ something’s wrong _ more than anything, yet it also begged me to come and find it. It, being some source of power that I could feel winding underground, out the ruined gates, and straight into my soul. 

“I think those necromancers are fucking around down there,” I mentioned, figuring that was the source of magic. “I can feel it.” Neither of the horses seemed upset, and they tended to be very sensitive animals, so it  _ had _ to be something deeper. When we reached the giant, towering gates inlaid in dark stone, we hopped off of our steeds and Bean danced around slightly.

“Tie him to that rock over there,” Zicron said, but I shook my head. 

“I don’t want him to be trapped if someone shows up,” I reasoned, bringing him over to Sunder. I tied their reins together. “If Sunder runs, he will too. Otherwise, she’ll just stay still and wait for us.”

“Oh, that’s smart,” he smiled, and I wished I was as at ease as him. I was excited, yes, but I was also terrified. I pat Sunder one last time and we walked up to the huge ruined door. 

It was about three times my height and in rough condition, but both doors were still door shaped and functioned properly. A thousand years couldn’t break down duskium. It was a rare metal that was worth a lot nowadays, but it was used for just about everything in the ancient times. Basically indestructible by normal means, as Zicron’s sword demonstrated. We pushed one of the doors open together, only being able to nudge it open a few feet. The hinges creaked and both of us held our breaths. 

I suddenly felt light headed, a true feeling of  _ coldness  _ washing over me. 

“Woah, you okay sweetheart?” He asked genuinely, and the cold was forced out of my heart.

“Haha,” I chuckled nervously, “I am when you call me that. But seriously, it feels like death here.”

“I don’t feel anything,” he mentioned, leading the way into the catacomb. It was lit up by torches that had been placed recently. 

“Feel lucky, it’s  _ freezing _ ,” I shivered, and he took my hand. 

“You can feel it? It’s not that cold in here,” he explained, “a little drafty,” he continued, pulling his sword out. His other hand squeezed mine tighter as we snuck through the ruins. The ceiling became higher and the pillars on the sides of the cavern stretched up to support the crumbling roof. 

“It’s weird, like it’s crawling under my skin,” I tried to describe, “it feels like it’s coming from deep underground.  _ Very  _ deep underground.”

“I wish I could help you,” he said quietly. 

“I’ll be okay,” I assured as we neared a well lit room. I could hear quiet voices whispering to each other and we both fell silent, hiding behind a pillar.

“The younger one’ll probably be good to raise,” a woman said in the other room. She wasn’t talking about raising them as their own, no - raising them from the dead. I don’t know if I can raise zombies, I refuse to try. Necromancy isn’t morally correct in my mind, and I’m an assassin. 

“He’d last longer than most, wouldn’t fall apart immediately,” the other necromancer responded. I spared Zicron a glance and reached for the cold that enveloped me, my fingers becoming coated in frost. Zicron smiled an excited smile and I had to admit, I felt the same. I’d never killed someone with magic before, but now was a better time to try than any.

I drew all of my magic in between my hands and an ice crystal formed between them. I could feel the force I was holding - it was ready to fly forward and tear through everything in front of it. I aimed at the closer necromancer and stopped trying to hold onto the force, causing the icicle to zip forward and pierce the woman’s back. Blood splattered all over the other necromancer sitting in front of her, and he yelped in alarm.

I didn’t even think as another icicle formed between my hands and stole the life from the other necromancer. I looked back at Zicron and a wicked smile crossed both of our faces. 

“That was so fucking cool!” He whispered, leading me into the room with the two bodies in it. I glanced over the blood splattered table, searching for anything of value, but there was nothing. Zicron looked at the javelins of ice piercing the two lip bodies in awe. “I’m glad you’re on my side,” he chuckled for the second time. 

“I shouldn’t have so much power,” I told him. I believed it more than anything. With a little bit of focus, I had slaughtered two people instantly. I was drunk on power. 

“Your smile is telling me something else,” he mentioned, walking over to the door on the other side of the room. 

“I could kill a hundred people with a single  _ thought _ ,” I uttered out, looking at my hands. My veins had become an icy blue.

“Try not to end the world?” He proposed jokingly, pushing the door open I followed him into the next hallway. I realized what was going through my head and took a breath.

“What? No, no, I don’t want to end the world, I quite like… well, everything about it really,” I explained, losing my buzz a bit. 

“Wait, were you actually thinking about doing it?” He asked quietly, stopping and turning to me. 

“No! Don’t tell me you actually think I’d do something like that,” I pleaded, hating his worried expression.  _ Don’t be like Faendel, I’d never kill someone if I didn’t have to.  _ He laughed a little bit, trying to ease the tension.

“I don’t,” he assured, “just checking.” We traversed the next few rooms, which were filled with a few more necromages, but I took care of them easily. “Hey, leave a few for me,” Zicron chuckled at some point, his blade still unbloodied. 

Blood dripped down my chin in pints, but there was no sign of a headache, which I was eternally grateful for. At some point through our journey through the catacombs, I switched to lightning magic unconsciously. I found it prettier to look at, and it bounced between enemies with ease. 

I shivered violently. It was even colder further down into the dungeon, and I prayed that it wouldn’t continue at this rate. I’d probably get hypothermia if I didn’t know that it wasn’t actually cold. Zicron insisted that it wasn’t even chilly down here. “I’d be fine even without a shirt on,” he tried to describe. 

“Be my guest,” I chuckled through chattering teeth, and that earned me a laugh from him. 

“If I knew I wasn’t going to be fighting anyone, I’d do it in a heartbeat,” he responded, tossing his sword into the air slightly and catching it again. The next room we came to had a large locked door blocking our entry, and that got Zicron excited. “Now I can show you how this works,” he said, taking his lockpick out, along with a thin knife. I winced as he jammed the lockpick into the lock with no mercy, expecting it to snap in two, but it didn’t. He slipped the knife under the pick and jiggled the pick around until the lock began turning. The lock clicked when it opened all the way, and Zicron pushed the door open, returning his tools to his pockets. 

The next room was one to behold. I had heard stories of giant ceremonial rooms with towering ceilings deep underground, but never really believed that they were full of all the flora they we supposed to.

“It’s been a long time since I saw one of these,” Zicron mentioned as he walked over to a giant, glowing mushroom that spanned from floor to ceiling. Glowing tendrils fell from the sides of the cap, falling over his shoulders as he stood under it. The area was clearly overgrown and appeared as if the necromancers hadn’t been able to break the lock. Smaller glowing toadstools grew on the stone walls, along with the few giant mushrooms crawling along the floor. One of the mushrooms had grown so big that it had knocked a marble column over onto the ground, and I had to walk around it to step under one of the beautiful mushrooms. 

Zicron’s eyes glittered as he looked up at me, his smile wide. He wrapped his fingers around one of the glowing tendrils hanging between us and reached up with it, twisting it into my hair. 

“You’re so handsome,” he said, sounding a little bit dazed. The cold wrapping around my body was pushed away as my chest heated up. 

“You are too,” I chuckled, putting my hands on his hips and pulling him close, “more so than me, I’d say,” I continued. I dipped my head down and nuzzled into his neck gently, pressing soft kisses to his skin. 

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” he mentioned, leaning into my kisses. The cold started to creep back in and my teeth started chattering again, making it near impossible to keep my lips soft. I nuzzled into the crook of his neck again and wrapped my arms around him, hugging him close in search of warmth. He returned the tight hug, pressing his lips to my forehead. “Let’s keep going, the sooner we get to the end, the sooner we can get you into some sun,” he urged, sliding an arm around my waist and guiding me along. The glowing vine slipped out of my hair gently.

The door at the end of the hall had no lock on it, but wouldn’t open, so Zicron jammed his lockpick into the gap between the double door and slid it along until a latch popped up on the other side. It took the both of us to push the door open, and I immediately became basically paralyzed with the cold.

The room itself was bigger than the throne room at the castle, and there was an elaborate altar on the other side, one that almost looked like a portal to another world. I summoned some fire into both of my hands, trying to warm myself up and force myself to walk forward, following after Zicron. 

“Wow, this is incredible,” he spoke in awe, multiple shadows being cast by his figure, from my fire and the few giant mushrooms bordering the room. We walked along the central platform, two aqueducts running along either side. 

“Nobody’s been here for centuries,” I said through chattering teeth. I was worried they’d start crumbling at this point. 

“There’s gotta be something worthwhile in here,” he cheered, jogging up to the altar. 

“Slow down, there might be traps,” I warned, and he stopped where he was, glancing around him. He advanced slowly and I traced his path. When he reached the altar at the top of the stairs, he paced around it before jumping. 

“What the fuck?” He blurted out, stepping back quickly before hesitating. 

“What is it?” I asked as I stepped up beside him. “Oh,” I continued, looking down at the thing that definitely shouldn’t be there. A person, that I could distinguish, but everything was a bit blurry, like they weren’t really there. I tried to take a step forward, but my joints locked up and I was frozen in place. Zicron was already walking forward apprehensively, sword held tight.

“Hello?” He asked, nudging the mass with his boot. 

“Are they dead?” I uttered out, barely able to talk. He looked up at me, his brow drawn in worry. 

“No, if he was dead, he would have started rotting by now, but,” he started, “you should get out of here, something’s not right.”  _ Okay, so it’s a man.  _ Slowly I began to tie details together in an abstract painting, realizing his short hair was stark white, yet he looked young. A few lines drew down his armor, glowing an unnatural turquoise colour, like my veins when I used ice magic. The one pauldron he had was traced with the same turquoise glow.

“Hey, wake up,” Zicron urged as he crouched down, his sword staying at the ready. The man winced and curled up, appearing just as cold as me. The fire in my hands grew, crawling up my arms yet not singing my sleeves. “It’s okay, we’re here to help,” he continued, and I started to wonder when I had agreed to that. 

The man opened his eyes and looked up at Zicron, shielding his eyes from my firelight. The eyes caught my attention - and clearly Zicron noticed too - grey with pale white pupils. Zicron backed up and watched as the unknown man pulled himself to stand, shaking in his boots. 

“What happened?” He asked with a clearly northern accent. He was definitely a northerner, even further north than where I came from. I also didn’t have a northern accent, since I was raised around a castle full of Myonoxians. 

“You’re in an ancient ruin,” Zicron explained, lowering his sword, “how did you get here?”

“I… I haven't a clue,” he answered, looking over to me. He was taller than Zicron but shorter than me by a few inches. His elaborate armor screamed royalty, a higher royalty than I had ever seen before, and a greatsword hung in its sheath from his back. “Who are you, sorcerer?” He nodded his head in respect, his teeth chattering, like mine were. 

“Obsidian,” I told him after a moment of thought. 

“An assassin?” He continued curiously, and I nodded slightly, my flames dying down. “And you?” He asked, turning to my partner in crime. 

“Zicron.”

“Zircon, is it not?” He corrected, and Zicron started chewing on the inside of his cheek. 

“It was,” Zicron explained, annoyed, “and now it’s not. What’s it matter?”

“Lord Azrael would find that disrespectful,” the man commented, looking at his hands that were covered by hefty gauntlets. 

“I don’t believe in that nonsense,” he shrugged off.  _ I didn’t know that _ . “Who are you?”

“Who am I?” The knight repeated, “who… who am I? I… I do not know. I cannot remember.”

“You don’t remember your name?” Zicron asked, pacing around the nameless anomaly. His eyes fell on the greatsword on his back like I expected them to, and he pulled it out of the sheath. The mystery man didn’t protest, instead looking at the sword like it didn’t belong to him.

“Hey, I’ve seen that before,” I mentioned, taking a step towards Zicron. He looked at the sword like he had fallen in love with it more than his own sword. It was the same metal as his sword, but the turquoise lines that embellished the knight’s armor dragged through it in a geometric pattern. 

“Yeah, I saw pictures of it in history books,” Zicron agreed, “infused with the magic of thousands, if I remember correctly. Prince Iridium’s sword during the Rewriting a thousand years ago,” he continued from memory. 

“Iridium! That’s my name, I remember now,” the knight blurted out, “wait, a thousand years ago? The Rewriting was a thousand years ago?!”

“You’re not Prince Iridium,” Zicron scoffed, but I held my hand up to stop him. 

“No, he is,” I spoke, realizing the cold wasn’t as bad as it was before. I swallowed hard.  _ The first sorcerer meets the last.  _ “Look at him, he’s… he’s got magic.” That obviously wasn’t the only reason behind me knowing he was the ancient prince, but I couldn’t scramble my thoughts together. Iridium’s jaw dropped a bit and he pointed at me. 

“You, I remember now. I was meant to find you. I cannot remember why I needed to find you, but that is why I am here,” he explained, trying to figure out what was going through his own head. Zicron looked up at me hesitantly, probably thinking the same thing.  _ That stupid prophecy were all told about as kids, it can’t be real, right? It can’t be me. _

__ “I think we should get out of here,” I pointed out, stretching a hand out to Iridium, “you should join us.” Iridium’s eyes traced along my arms, noticing my veins showing through my skin. He pulled one of his armoured gauntlets off to reveal he had the exact same abstract lines crossing his skin. Zicron looked terrified yet in awe at the same time, holding his second thousand year old sword. Iridium and I’s hands connected and a bright spark went off between us, causing my skin to burn. I stepped back and hissed, looking at my palm. Nothing had blemished the skin, but it stung like a wasp. It clearly had also hurt the prince, as he shook his hand rapidly. 

“That has never happened before,” he mentioned, pulling his gauntlet back on.

“You two are going to cause an explosion,” Zicron pointed out, trying to push some humour into his tone. He slid Iridium’s sword back into its sheath reluctantly and returned to my side, taking a somewhat defensive stance. 

“The cold is gone,” I told him quietly, and that seemed to make him feel better. 

“Good,” he responded, taking my hand under both of our cloaks, “let’s get out of here, this place screams ‘you’re gonna get cursed’.”

“I agree,” Iridium said, leading the way like he had unlocked a deep memory on how he got into the place, following the path back, “say, where are we?”

“The ruin in the Prospering Plains,” I answered as we followed behind him. 

“Oh, no, truly?” He asked, sorrow filling his voice as he looked around the crumbling room, “this… this used to be a beautiful kingdom, if I can recall correctly. I’ve travelled here before on diplomatic occasions.”

“Fuck, you really are a prince,” Zicron mumbled. We both had a distaste for royalty, but mine had clearly been put aside for this man. I mean, this was the man who started the long line of royal assassins across the whole Western Hemisphere, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him. Not to mention, he had a big role in the Rewriting, where all of the ancient ones were just… wiped out. Nobody really knows what he did, but we’ve always known he did  _ something.  _ Hopefully that something was a good thing. 

“How on earth did I end up here?” Iridium asked himself, looking around at his familiar surroundings.

“Yeah, are none of us going to point out that he’s a thousand years old? He looks younger than both of us,” Zicron pointed out.

“Perhaps lord Azrael sent me to meet you,” Iridium reasoned calmly, and Zicron rolled his eyes. 

“Whatever you say, Witchboy.”

“I am not a witch,” Iridium said with distaste, “I was born with my magic - I’m a sorcerer.”

“Wow, big difference,” Zicron mumbled, clearly annoyed, “books are useless anyways,” he continued, and I have no idea what he was trying to prove at the moment. 

“Says the man who went digging through hundreds of ancient texts to figure out who’s sword he was carrying,” I teased, trying to calm him down. 

“Hey, I love this sword, I wanted to know everything about it,” he defended jokingly, “just like you.”

“Oh, you don’t mean that,” I chuckled, lowering my voice so Iridium wouldn’t overhear. 

“What? You’ve probably got a pretty interesting past, I want to hear about all of it.”  _ Oh, that’s what you meant, of course it was. _

“Actually, it wasn’t all that impressive. A lot of hours spent wandering the empty halls of the castle,” I reasoned.

“Sounds interesting to me,” he offered a smile that could cut diamonds, it was so sharp.

“You are royalty as well?” Iridium interrupted, slowing his pace down. 

“Well, not really, no. Brought to the castle as a child so I could be trained as a royal assassin,” I explained, expecting him to know about the royal assassins. I mean, he invented them. 

“Oh, do they still do the locating ritual?” He asked curiously, and I nodded. 

“Locating ritual?” Zicron began, but Iridium kept talking. 

“I invented that, as you might be aware. I thought I may have gone out of fashion over a thousand years,” he mentioned, sounding a bit like a kid in a candy shop. 

“Nope. Every thirty years or so, they do it,” I explained, “say, how does it work? I’ve never actually seen it done before.”

“You haven’t? Oh, well, it’s simple, really,” he began, “kill a descendent of my bloodline, use their heart and something as old as time to find another descendant. Killing runs in our blood,” he continued, smiling to me calmly. 

“Wait, so I’m related to you?” 

“Very distantly,” he mentioned, “I had twelve siblings and my parents had a combined twenty three siblings, you could be any of their children’s descendants. I do not know, truly.” He looked down, his brows drawing together at his long dead family. “I wonder what happened to all of them.”

“Well -” Zicron began, pausing to glance at me with a look that said ‘ _ should I?’  _ I shrugged. I mean, he mentioned the Rewriting before, so surely he knows what happened. Zicron must’ve been thinking the same thing, so he continued. “Well, most people disappeared during the Rewriting, you must’ve known that.”

“What? Nobody ‘disappeared’ during the Rewriting… or… or did they? I cannot recall…” Iridium trailed off, digging deep into his foggy memory. 

“We don’t really know what happened, but we do know most of the people were just wiped off the face of the planet, no trace of remains or anything, yet your buildings have stayed whole since then,” I explained, gesturing to the towering stone columns around us. We had entered back into the area that the necromancers had inhabited, and Iridium looked a few of the bodies over with an emotionless expression.

“Just… gone? Yet here I am, standing here, completely alive,” he mumbled, looking at his hands like they couldn’t actually exist. He gasped slightly and stopped walking, clearly remembering something. He sighed out and shut his eyes tightly. “Oriel, I remember now. By Azrael, I miss her.”

“Oriel… your wife, right?” Zicron asked sympathetically. Iridium pressed his lips together and nodded slightly. 

“She was my everything,” he said quietly, “she still is. She holds my heart with her no matter where she is.”

“Nobody ever forgot about her,” I tried, wanting to reach out and pat his back or something, but I was worried I’d get shocked again.

“Good, she would not have wanted to fade away. She always wanted to be around people who cared about her.”

Iridium fell into a silence to pay respect for his fallen wife, and we decided it was best not to bother him, instead slowing down to walk further away and whisper to each other. 

“What the fuck happened during the Rewriting?” Zicron asked curiously, “like even he can’t remember it.”

“Well… I hate to point it out,” I started, feeling my hair raise on my arms, “but the majority of people back then knew how to do some sort of magic, maybe… maybe it was that?”

“I mean, it’s possible,” he agreed, “but how often do you hear about rogue wizards?”

“ _ I’m  _ a rogue wizard.”

“I meant in history, fucko,” he chuckled, and I hoped and prayed he didn’t think I’d do something crazy with my magic. I wouldn’t let myself hurt someone I didn’t need to. Then again… I’ve never  _ needed  _ to kill anyone before, but I did what I was told and rarely asked questions, or more recently, I let vengeance take ahold of me. I  _ had  _ a reason to kill Alaric, and Wyvern, and Faendel. They’d all fucked me over before. Surely that gave me a pass, right? Zicron clearly understood. 

“Who said it was the wizards?” I proposed, “maybe it was a certain sorcerer,” I continued, nodding towards Iridium. 

“The prophecies are bullshit,” he mentioned, catching my gaze and giving me a look that told me he believed himself. 

“I never said anything about that,” I countered, “I was talking about the Rewriting.”

“I know, but I need you to believe me,” he urged, his dark eyebrows drawing together. “Please. You’re not the ‘last sorcerer’, you’re not going to end the world, you’re not going to do  _ anything  _ you don’t want to.”

“I know, I know,” I assured, squeezing his hand gently, “why are you so worried about it?”

“I’m not. I just don’t want you to be upset, or scared, or… any bad emotion, really,” he admitted, looking at me like I meant the world to him. Nobody’s ever given me a gaze like this before, and it was playing with my heart. 

“I don’t know why,” I pointed out, trying to understand what was going on in that head of his. 

“Because -” he started, but he cut himself off, “because you’re amazing and you don’t deserve anything but happiness.” 

“I appreciate it, really I do,” I told him honestly, “but I wouldn’t be me if I was always happy. Nobody is always happy.” He sighed.

“I guess you’re right,” he agreed, running his thumb against my wrist unconsciously. We reached the front gates of the ruin and the three of us pushed them open together, the old metal hinges creaking like a falling tree. The sky was dark, but not because of the time of day. It was about to rain, by the looks of it, and tension rolled in the sky. Across the field, our horses looked over curiously, still tied together. 

“Ah, you have two steeds?” Iridium asked, but it was more of a statement. 

“Mhm,” Zicron hummed, letting go of my hand reluctantly and drifting a few steps away. “You’ll have to walk, sorry about your luck.”

“That is fine,” he accepted as we walked across the field. Thunder rumbled above us. “I apologize for asking, but you say things like ‘you’ll’ and ‘don’t’. I have taken the liberty of assuming that they mean ‘you will’ and ‘do not,’ correct?”

“Oh, yeah, they’re called contractions,” I mentioned, “I figured you would’ve known that.”

“Contractions? Is that not what a woman has when they are in labour?” He asked, and both Zicron and I laughed. 

“I mean, you’re not wrong,” Zicron chuckled, “but they’re called contractions because the word is made smaller, right?” He continued, looking to me for confirmation. 

“Right, they’re written with an apostrophe instead of the extra letters,” I tried to explain to Iridium.

“Oh, do you both know how to write?” He questions curiously, and Sunder trotted over to us, Bean in tow. 

“I can, can you?” I returned to Zicron. He nodded.

“Only nobles used to be able to write,” Iridium mentioned.

“Well, Obsidian technically is a noble and assassins typically need to be able to read and write so we can understand contracts,” Zicron explained, “but otherwise, the majority of commoners can’t do either.”

“I don’t think commoners need to be able to read and write,” Iridium decided, and both of us didn’t argue with him. I didn’t think he was right, but I figured someone from a thousand years ago might not listen to an argument about something like that. The rain started coming down slowly yet persistently, and I pulled my hood over my head to protect myself. Zicron and I jumped on our respective horses after untying them from each other, and Iridium followed us along through the tall grass. He never complained, but I noticed Zicron begin to shiver as the rain splattered through his hair. 

His cloak didn’t have a hood like mine, but a high collar instead. It definitely didn’t protect him from the elements. I unclasped my cloak and pulled it off my shoulders, draping it over my companion instead. He pushed the hood away from his eyes and looked up at me, a small smile on his face.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, pulling the thick fabric tight around his body. 

“Don’t lose any of my knives,” I chuckled, reaching down to run my hand against his cheek. I forgot about Iridium for a moment, but it was a quick gesture and we could probably play it off if he asked about it anyways. Zicron leaned his head into my hand and let his eyes fall closed for a moment, frowning slightly when I pulled back. Him being so relaxed probably put Bean in a better mood, considering the pony wasn’t dancing around as much as usual and he’d just had a long break to get all of his energy back. 

We continued along the plains for a while, dark clouds looming over us, sending thunder and lightning snaking across the sky. My hair raised every time lightning stuck in the distance, my heart calling to the energy. 

_ Rose Nixon, Castle Myonox. _

I watched the rain pummel against my window in silence, still trying to piece together my thoughts. No more than five hours ago, Wyvern and Faendel had been found murdered in the room below me. And what made it worse? We knew exactly who did it. Well, for the most part. We know it was Obsidian, that was clear, but someone else had been there too, someone with a bow and arrow. 

I had been the one to find the scene - I left my room early this morning and found a guard dead in front of my door, a familiar crossbow bolt sticking out of the back of their helmet. I hadn’t been thinking at the moment, and ran right to Wyvern, but he and Faendel were already dead by the time I got down there. 

Obsidian  _ had _ killed Alaric. I knew he had a reason to, but I couldn’t believe he’d actually follow through with it. He had a reason to want all three of his victims dead, I knew that, and he had voiced his opinions on all of them to me. However, he had also made it very clear that he’d  _ never  _ betray the queen and yet here we are. It had to have been whoever was with him who convinced him to go off the rails. 

We knew he had an accomplice for all of this, considering the scene down in the Pit and the unknown arrow, but we don’t know if whoever it was was around when Alaric was killed. I just wanted to know  _ who  _ it was.

Obsidian was a smart guy, and he was very hard to persuade to do anything. I used to have to beg him to go out to town with me, or to let me use his crossbow, or literally  _ anything  _ that the queen didn’t tell him to do. Which begs the question: who the hell knew exactly what words to spin in order to get Obsidian to… make his own decisions. That was it. I hadn’t realized that, but I remember him telling me that sometimes he wanted to stop following orders, to do things on his own volition. Someone told him he could do it. Someone  _ knew  _ Obsidian wanted that. 

I couldn’t even be mad at either of them - Obsidian or whoever his friend was. Obsidian didn’t belong in a castle, following the orders of my mother. He belonged anywhere not confined by walls, following his own path. Maybe he’d actually figure out how to use his magic out there, make a life for himself. Maybe he’d even go north, look for his parents or something. He was never interested in that, though. Then again, I clearly didn’t know him as well as I thought I did. 

There was a quiet knock on the door and my mother walked in, seeming just as distressed as she had been earlier. 

“I sent guards into the Pit to find Warren,” she spoke quietly, sitting down beside me. I couldn’t look at her. “They found him dead near one of the entrances. Obsidian killed him as soon as they got in there.”

“I miss him,” I croaked out, tears suddenly welling in my eyes. She wrapped her arms around me and it made me feel a little bit better, but I was so  _ alone.  _ No Obsidian, no Wyvern, no Warren… all my friends were just gone. 

“I’ve sent out a brigade of guards to find Obsidian. He’ll pay for what he did to them,” she explained, but I shook my head.

“Not Warren, I miss Obsidian! He’s my best friend!” I cried, standing up quickly and walking over to my window. I looked out over the town, rain falling in sheets above it. He was long gone by now, nobody sane would stay in town after murdering three- well, no, actually four - royal officials. 

“Rose, he  _ killed _ Alaric, Wyvern, Faendel,  _ and  _ Warren,” she repeated like I didn’t know, “he’s not the person you think he is.”

“You didn’t know him like I did!” I argued, wiping my tears from my cheeks roughly, “all four of them have wronged him so many times in his life. Whoever he found out there, whoever he trusts enough to have helped him get revenge against a bunch of bastards living in a castle, is  _ helping  _ him.”

“First off, watch your mouth,” she threatened, “second, how did any of them wrong him? I know he and Wyvern didn’t get along, but that was no reason to murder him.”

“Alaric was the reason he got put in the Pit the first time, you  _ knew  _ he hadn’t committed treason,” I began, staring at the window like I could break it with my glare, “Wyvern fucked around with him since the minute they met, and Obsidian just stayed quiet about it. Warren - they had a past, it’s not my place to talk about it, but he would never leave Obsidian alone about it. And Faendel was always  _ mad _ at Obsidian because he was too _ good  _ at his magic, because he did too much with it when he was practising with him.”

“Those aren’t grounds to kill anyone!” Mom argued, sighing loudly. 

“He was  _ raised  _ to kill! It’s all he knows, you can’t blame him for that being his last resort,” I spoke quietly, trying to calm myself down. Mom was quiet for a moment. 

“Rose, I need you to tell me who helped him with this.”

“I don’t know. Nobody has disappeared from the castle, it wasn’t anyone I knew. It must’ve been a commoner who knew how to use a bow and climb into a castle,” I reasoned, swallowing down the lump in my throat. 

“How am I supposed to find them now?” She whispered to herself. I turned slowly to look at her, still sitting on my bed. 

“You won’t. Obsidian was trained not to get caught by people, and they’re long gone by now,” I pointed out, almost glad he was smart enough to evade the law. 

“What am I supposed to do?” She groaned, rubbing her hands down her face. “I’ve lost my strategist, my royal champion, my court wizard, and my ambassador. Half the city is sick and dying and I’ve heard whispers that people know I had an assassin. By Prosperity I hope word doesn’t get out about all of this, I can’t handle tensions with other kingdoms.”

“What do you want me to say? I’m a fucking princess, you never taught me anything about diplomacy other than ‘look pretty and be quiet,’” I snapped back at her, pulling at my long locks of dark hair. 

“You had better watch your attitude with me,” she shot back, standing up and waking over to the door with purpose, “I have a kingdom to run, don’t bother leaving your room.” And with that, she was gone, leaving me alone in my cold room. For the smallest of seconds, I wished Obsidian had killed her, too. 

He should’ve taken me with him. He probably wanted to, knowing him. He told me he’d never leave me, yet here we are. I wanted to leave, to go find him, but I was the last person who could track him down. Maybe he’d come back some day, just maybe. 

I’d just have to wait for him, however long that may take. 


End file.
